A Fallen God
by JamesLuver
Summary: When Ash Ketchum is promoted to head of the Elite Four after its previous leader is killed, his first aim is to bring down Team Rocket. With the help of a band of faithful followers and Jessie, James and Meowth, the ex-members of the organisation, he makes his preparations for war. But, as the allies' worlds are torn apart, Ash is not guaranteed a victory. ON HIATUS.
1. For the Want of a Kingdom

**Summary:** When Ash Ketchum is promoted to head of the Elite Four after its previous leader is killed, his first aim is to bring down Team Rocket, with the help of a band of faithful friends, as well as Jessie, James and Meowth, ex-members of the organisation. The only problem is how he is going to go about it. And Ash could never have guessed the size of the fight he has got himself into. Only one thing is certain: it won't be an easy thing to win. Soon, events take a sinister turn, and as the allies start to round on each other, the 'mission' becomes a battle of wills between Ash and Giovanni himself: good vs. evil, right vs. wrong, father vs. son, and only one can survive.

**A/N:** Here we go, a 'fic set in the future. It ain't gonna be all sunshine and roses, either.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Pokémon_, though a few OCs will pop up throughout in supporting roles.

* * *

_A Fallen God_

_1. For the Want of a Kingdom…_

_Flaviaosa Plateau._

_July, 2013._

It had happened. It had finally happened. Everything the boy had ever worked towards had paid off; his dreams had come true. Except now he was no longer a boy and now he no longer had to strive forwards to obtain his lofty goals.

Life was good.

"Mr. Ash Ketchum, everyone!"

And now the crowd was on its feet; screaming, cheering, chanting his name…

A proud grin stretched across his face as he waved to his enraptured audience. Pikachu leapt onto his shoulder and surveyed the spectators smugly, flourishing his paw at whoever glanced his way.

It was perfect.

"And now," the commentator was announcing, "Mr. Ketchum makes his way to the Stairway of Honour, ready to take his place as a member of the Elite Four!"

More wolf whistles, more yells of support. Ash adjusted his cap, heard his best friend squeak his consent, and set off up the long flight of stairs. Each step took him closer to the best moment of his life. His faithful Pokémon, who had battled so hard for him, joined the procession to the top one by one, nervous yet exalted. Ash flashed a smile over his shoulder; none of this would have been possible without them.

At last he reached the platform at the top, where his new comrades greeted him: the slightly clumsy Charlotte, the cool Andrea, and their leader, the silent Mark. Ash shook hands with each of them in turn, unable to stop beaming.

"We need a photo of you," Andrea said, gesturing casually to a man who was waiting by patiently, camera held aloft. "You know, for the Hall of Fame; to prove that you're a member, you'll be remembered for ever and the rest of that corny stuff. Okay with you?"

"Er…okay," Ash said stupidly, as his team gathered around him. He tried to pose nonchalantly but failed miserably; after all, it wasn't every day someone broke the record for the youngest ever person to be admitted into the Elite Four! Everywhere he looked, cameras were flashing in his direction, every single member of the audience desperate for a souvenir of their day. His Pokémon stood around him; Sceptile and Tauros on his left, Quilava and Feraligatr on his right, Swellow hovering by his head and Pikachu peeping over his hat.

"Follow us," Mark said shortly.

Obediently, Charlotte and Andrea pursued him through the exit to the stadium.

"Pi, Pika!" encouraged the electric mouse, patting him on the back in a friendly way. Ash pulled out his Pokéballs and recalled his team.

"Thanks, guys," he muttered under his breath, before stowing them on his belt. Taking one last glance at the well-lit stadium, Ash turned and trudged after his colleagues.

The sound of the crowd was instantly muffled as he stepped out into the surprisingly cold air.

"I can't believe it, Pikachu!" he told the mouse. "It's all over! We've made it!"

"Chu!" the electric type agreed happily, clinging to the young man's black tresses.

"Yo, Ash!" Charlotte was waving frantically at him from the threshold of some sort of building.

On a closer inspection, Ash realised it was a Pokémon Center, though a far superior one to the sort the trainer was accustomed to. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and watched his fellow Elite Four member.

"So…congrats again, Ash," Charlotte said after a short pause.

"Yeah, thanks," Ash nodded, stroking Pikachu's head absently.

"Mark and Andrea are waiting inside," Charlotte supplied after it became apparent that the newly appointed Pokémon Master was not about to speak for a while. "C'mon."

Gladly, Ash traipsed after her, and was immediately engulfed by warmth. Mark and Andrea were deep in conversation when Charlotte and Ash walked up.

"You'd better give your Pokémon to Nurse Joy," Charlotte said brightly. "I'm sure they're tired after that battle."

"Okay," Ash said awkwardly, pulling out his five Pokéballs. Pikachu leapt onto the desk beside him, awaiting the nurse.

"What an honour it is to meet you, Mr. Ketchum," Nurse Joy bowed her head slightly as she made her appearance. She gave him a grin as she placed the balls onto a tray. Pikachu transferred himself onto the woman's shoulders.

"Thanks," Ash rubbed the back of his neck modestly, gave the nurse one last smile and turned his attention back to Mark, Andrea, and Charlotte.

"You're expected in a news interview tomorrow," Mark warned him as he opened his mouth to speak. "Around ten I think, with PokéWorld TV."

"Right." Ash was a little nervous. After all, he was no longer the cocky, self-absorbed child he had been at one time. He had matured a lot since the beginning of his journey, and was a much nicer person for it.

"They'll also want you to give a demonstration of your powers," Charlotte added excitedly. "It's a wonderful experience!"

"So all we do is battle other trainers who challenge us, right?" Ash asked.

"For the most part, yeah. But if there are problems we go and sort them out, because everyone looks up to us and relies on us," Andrea complied.

"What, like problems with Pokémon?"

"Sometimes, and sometimes we have to deal with Pokémon thieves."

A strong image of the bumbling Jessie, James and Meowth sprang to mind. "Like Team Rocket?"

"They're the biggest offenders," Charlotte winked cheerfully. "But we put a stop to their work pretty quick. Anyway, you don't want to be thinking about that tonight. It's time to celebrate your victory, kiddo!"

Ash smiled. That was right. He'd done it. He was now a proud member of the Elite Four.

He was part of the greatest kingdom ever.

* * *

_Unknown location, Flaviaosa._

The figure in front of the desk quivered slightly, his fear showing. The man behind it waved him away, barely containing his anger. Relieved, the agent fled, leaving the man alone. He hurled his glass of brandy across the room, where it smashed against the wall and dripped onto the floor like droplets of blood. His fists shook with the effort of keeping his temper under control as he stood and stormed over to the window, wrenching open the curtains. The setting sun glowed on the horizon, and the man turned away, disgusted. They'd failed him. He'd lost the kingdom he had been hoping to gain.

They'd pay in time, he reassured himself. Hell, they would. But for now he needed to come up with a plan to counter the… unforeseen circumstances of the boy's admittance. It would take careful planning. Not one detail could be rushed if he wanted to succeed in this.

But, the slower the preparation, the sweeter the vengeance would be in time when he defeated the runt and claimed custody over the entire planet.


	2. The Battle is Lost

_2. …The Battle is Lost_

_The outskirts of Flaviaosa Plateau._

_July, 2013._

Not everyone was celebrating that night.

A very dejected Team Rocket sat below the mocking stars, heads down in disgrace. A stony silence hung in the air, each member of the blundering trio blaming one of the others for their untimely loss. The white over tops of the humans were dumped unceremoniously on the outskirts of their campsite, still smouldering from the Pikachu's damned Volt Tackle. Meowth's whiskers and tail were singed, and currently the cat was sulking away from his companions.

What had gone wrong?

It had been so perfect. They had spent the preceding day in a cosy hotel on the pretext that they were going to watch the Pokémon battles for a half price offer, and had had a blast; teasing each other, exploring together and, at night, Jessie and James sleeping back to back, Meowth around their feet. The next morning, Jessie had rallied them into an enthusiastic mental state, and together they had followed the twerp as close to the stadium as possible before launching their latest and greatest attack. Claiming to be a duo who wanted to challenge the Elite Four first, they had taunted the twerp into accepting to fight them. The brat hadn't stood a chance against them, so amazing was their battle plan.

They had quickly claimed the rat. He wasn't that great a Pokémon: he certainly hadn't been able to defeat James' Carnivine. Meowth had had their balloon ready, prepared to make their escape.

Victory had seemed imminent.

Until that jumped-up Elite Four member had appeared and completely ruined everything. He'd released his Infernape and suddenly they'd all realised what was going to happen before it did…

The Infernape had opened its mouth and let rip a devastating Flamethrower, freeing Pikachu from the electricity proof cage he was confined in, and grounding the trio of thieves. Pikachu had recovered from the fall more rapidly than they had; upon his Master's orders, he had leapt to all fours and raced forwards towards the still woozy group, electricity crackling from his small body…

…Which had led directly to where they were sitting now, unhappy, dejected, and ultimately screwed over once again.

"Da Boss is gonna blow his top once he realises dat we goofed up," Meowth said reproachfully, breaking the silence.

"Well, he won't be mad at me," Jessie huffed, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder disdainfully. "_I_ wasn't the one who revealed our identity by dropping the cage on the rat!" She shot a disgruntled glance at her partner. "If you'd waited a few moments longer, then we could've convinced the twerp that we were feeling guilty enough to want to take it to the Pokémon Center ourselves!"

James merely pouted in response to her words, but Meowth scowled and opened his mouth, disliking the way his fiery tempered comrade had pinned the blame on anyone but herself. "'S'cuse me, Miss Poifect, but if my memory soives me correctly, ya may not have dropped da cage on Pikachu, but youse was definitely da one ta tell Jimmy ta do it! So, dis mess is really all _your_ fault!"

"What did you say?" Jessie's eyes flashed dangerously as she stood and drew herself to her full five foot seven.

"Youse hoid me," Meowth snarled, raising himself too, holding his ground and glowering up at his human friend, a noble feat considering that he was several feet shorter than she was and did not possess a mallet to knock any sense into her. James looked nervously from one to the other, sensing that a fight was about to break out, and for once used his head and decided to keep his mouth firmly shut.

"So, according to you, this mess is all my fault?" growled Jessie.

"Yeah, it is," the feline shot back.

He found himself sprawled out beside the dying embers of the fire. Groaning a little, he stumbled unsteadily to his feet, ears flattened against his head, tail swishing, a gesture of how furious he was.

"Dat was uncalled for!" he screamed, testing his paws gingerly.

"Would you like matching eyes?" she sneered in reply.

The cat smacked his tail against the ground a few more times in disgust, before storming over to the furthest point their campsite offered, the limp evident in his stride.

James blinked, astonished. Why the hell were they so riled at each other? Didn't they understand that utterly embarrassing losses were inevitable at the hands of the brat? He had long since accepted these statistics, and was prepared to get up, lose, and shake off the humiliating defeat in the hopes that they really could beat the damned Pikachu and get the promotion they had always deserved…

Obviously his teammates had not.

James did not really comprehend why they couldn't just phone the boss in the morning, explain in full detail (exaggerating a bit for added sympathy) what had taken place, then grovel for forgiveness and promise they'd never let it happen again. Sure, the boss would be livid for a while, but wasn't he always? After all, there had been the unforeseen problem of that Elite doofus, Matt, or something of an equal awfulness. In any case, it wasn't as though Team Rocket members had never lost to Elites before. Take Tyson, he reasoned in his head, he'd lost the battle for the Red Gyarados against Lance back in Johto, and the boss still thought most highly of him. So why couldn't it be the same for them? He'd understand; he had to! The three of them were no match for _Elites_!

His optimistic thoughts were making him feel a lot better. He even allowed himself a small smile at his own ingenuity.

Still breathing heavily, Jessie rounded on him.

"So you think this is funny, do you?" she hissed. "Do you really need me to wipe that smirk off your face?"

Hastily, James adjusted his face into an expression he hoped was suitable for the occasion, one a person might opt for at a dying relative's bedside. Jessie glared at him for a moment, raising a fist as though she was going to strike him. Instinctively, he shielded his head from harm, cowering away, awaiting the blow that was sure to follow.

Nothing.

One second…two seconds…slowly James lowered his hands, still wary of his ever temperamental partner. He found her still frozen in the same position; the silvery glow from the moon accentuating her figure, making her seem all the more like a beautiful goddess to him, even if she was about to beat him senseless.

Sometimes he'd wonder how he put up with it all. The screaming matches, the constant fights, the hours of stony silence. But then he'd ruminate all of the good times: the jokes, the hugs, the promises of a lifelong friendship, and he'd realise that the good things by far compensated for the rough patches. No matter how dire the situation, the two always came through for each other, and James would never forget that.

The fact that he was madly in love with her might help too.

How it had happened, James didn't know. It had been a gradual change in the years that he had known her, a platonic brotherly-sisterly sort of relationship that had evolved, like Pokémon around the world, into a bigger and better thing. Well, he _guessed_ it was bigger and better. In a way. It would be if she felt the same about him, a feeling James would bet each of his Pokémon on that Jessie did not return.

Such was the unfairness of life.

Even breathing reached his ears from the corner of the campsite that held the Meowth. Although angry, it seemed he had not been able to fight off the effects of sleep.

James looked back to his partner. She still hadn't hit him. For what seemed like aeons they locked eyes, sapphires to emeralds. Progressively, Jessie lowered her hand, seemingly unable to go through the procedure of hitting her male accomplice. As an alternative, she flopped down onto the grass beside him.

"This sucks." The comment was issued quietly, almost inaudibly, Jessie's gaze fixated onto the lump that was the cat.

"We'll be okay," James said softly, glancing to his side in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

It seemed she was all out of fight. "But we won't, will we? He won't forgive us, not this time."

"He has to," said James.

"We've been failing for too long now, James," Jessie sighed in a defeated sort of way.

"But…what about the years when we were the best? No one could touch us then!" James was beginning to feel negative too. Desperately, he focused his thoughts onto the better times he had endured throughout the years; the triumphant battles, the perfectly executed missions…

"Two years of success is nothing compared to six years of absolute screw-ups," Jessie countered flatly. "Our time is as good as up."

The agitated squeak worked its way into James' voice, sending it an octave or two higher. "But what'll we do? He can't get rid of us; I thought we were the indispensable trio!"

"We're indispensable as long as we do well," corrected Jessie. "Or if I sleep with the boss to save our necks, but there's no way on earth I can do that, so don't ask me to, James."

To his horror, he caught a glimpse of tears sparkling in his best friend's eyes before she turned her head with a loud huff, attempting to wipe her face inconspicuously. Respectfully, James pretended not to notice, careful not to offend her by offering his comfort.

Instead, he said, "you know Meowth and I would never ask you to do…_that_ with the boss. Our jobs aren't as…well, important as you." His face was a burning furnace as he mumbled the last part.

"Meowth would," Jessie contradicted, bitter, indifferent. "And is it any wonder with how I've acted this evening? I was pissed off, but I didn't mean to get that worked up. I guess…" She opened her mouth, but it seemed that the words she needed were eluding her. "…I guess I'm nervous," she managed finally. "I mean, if he fires us, what will we do? We'll have nowhere to go. And if he does keep us, then there's a good chance he'll split us up…" She left it there, hanging ominously in the air, like some sort of giant Fearow, preying on their uncertainties.

Shakily, James drew a breath, feeling as though he had just gone ten rounds in the ring with a furious Machamp. No more Jessie and James? The notion couldn't even be contemplated. He tried to imagine himself with another feisty, sexy member of Team Rocket, but the more he thought about it, the more the woman became a faceless, ugly, and decidedly bland character compared with his quick tempered, beautifully cruel partner.

And then a second, unbidden image sprang to mind, one of Jessie: standing tall and proud next to a disastrously handsome man, the two of them succeeding in everything they did; the two of them making love underneath a star studded heaven, the moon lighting her face with a surreal lunar glow, her expression one of wild excitement; two little children, pulling happily on their mummy and daddy's legs while the pair kissed, their wedding vows renewed…

"_No!"_ He didn't realise the phrase had burst forth from his mouth until Jessie started, apparently dragged from her own depressing reverie.

"Really, James," she grumbled reprovingly. "Do you have to yell that loud?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, blinking rapidly in the hopes of dispelling the taunting picture. "What I meant to say was that we'll have to do everything we can to convince the boss to keep us together. Get down on our knees and beg, ask him to demote us to Grunt level, even tell him he can halve what we earn, anything. That is," he looked worried suddenly, "if you still want to be with me?"

"Of course I do," Jessie answered.

James let out the breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. "It's settled then, right?"

For the first time that night, Jessie allowed a smile to grace her face. "It's settled until tomorrow when you'll conveniently forget you've got balls, and I'll be the one pleading with the boss to give us yet another chance while you'll be hiding behind me."

"That's not funny!" James whined, knowing that deep down she was right.

"And if that happens, I'll bloody well take it out on you later!" she only half-joked.

James didn't speak for a moment; he reached out slowly, waveringly, until his gloved fingers enclosed delicately around her wrist.

"We _will_ be okay," he told her, to reassure himself as much as her. She nodded in confirmation, and once again they stared into each other's eyes, as though they could read each other's hearts if their gaze was intense enough.

"Goodnight then, Jess," James whispered a minute later, tearing his gaze from her addictive one. Giving her hand a squeeze, he let his grip loosen and stood up, stretching his limbs. He glanced over in the general direction of Meowth. "I'm gonna hit the sack. We're gonna need our sleep if we're facing the boss tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jessie said absently in response.

"Don't be too long, then."

"No, I won't."

With one last smile, he trudged round the campsite to join Meowth, cuddling up to the normal type as though he was a soft toy, unaware of the confused state he had left Jessie in. What the redhead couldn't understand was why her insides had been acting as though she'd eaten a Croagunk for breakfast when James had been holding her hand, and why now she felt such a heavy disappointment because he'd left her.

* * *

"Wake up, lazy ass."

Groaning, Jessie swatted away the paw that was shaking her awake.

"_Jessie!_ We gotta get goin' as soon as we can! We've gotta be da ones who tell da boss dat we screwed up…dough it's prolly been all da way around Flaviaosa by now…" The cat sighed sadly, his tail drooping, the size of their predicament clearly weighing profoundly on his mind.

"Oh, all right," mumbled Jessie, opening her eyes reluctantly. The sun was beating down onto the cowering world, making her squint as she rolled over to face the scratch cat. It seemed that his temper had cooled considerably from the previous night.

"I guess I was bang outta order blamin' it all on youse. It was a team effort, so it was a team screw-up too," he said once he had her full attention.

"You're forgiven, furball," Jessie said gruffly. "I suppose I'm sorry too. Anyway," she changed the subject before either of them got too sentimental, "what's for breakfast?"

Meowth sighed, and shrugged. "Nut'in', accordin' ta da Master Chef. Not dat I can get any sense outta him. He seems ta have gone inta a clinically depressed state cuz he's realised he won't be eatin' dis mornin'."

"Oh, great," Jessie sighed. "Not only do we have to face the boss, we have to do it on an empty stomach! There's no way I can count on James now."

"What, an' ya could before?" the feline snickered. "What a touchin' sentiment. Jimmy would be ovajoyed ta hear it."

"Hardly," grumbled Jessie as she got to her feet and stretched. "Anyway, there's no point in hanging around, is there? Let's take the Tauros by its horns and go."

"I'm wid ya, Jess," Meowth reluctantly agreed. "Lemme go sort out da balloon; it's almost ready fer flight, but I gotta check da fuel supply an' make sure dat da hole I patched up ain't gonna split anytime soon."

"Okay," Jessie said. "I suppose I'll get ready to go."

Meowth nodded, then set off for the clearing in which the Meowth headed balloon was harboured. Jessie watched him leave for a moment, then set about gathering her stuff together. The charred remains of the fire had been scuffed over with dirt. The female Rocket checked warily for any other signs that could retell of their night there, but she could find nothing that an untrained eye would notice. Satisfied, she made her way over to the balloon, where both her partners stood waiting. She dumped her belongings in the basket and came to rest beside James.

"Ready for this?" she said softly.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Meowth supplied, jumping onto James' shoulders and making a brave attempt to hide his fear. "C'mon, da longer we stall, da harder it gets fer us."

"You're right," Jessie sighed. "Let's move."

"But Jessie, I haven't eaten yet! I'm hungry!" James whined, fixating his best puppy-eyed stare on her. The effects failed to move her; she simply whacked him upside the head lightly.

"Don't start," she growled. "We don't have any food left, so you're gonna have to starve for once and take it like a real man!"

"Jess…" he whimpered.

"Just get in the balloon," she said, raising her hand meaningfully again and, reluctant to receive another bruise,

James clambered into the basket without another word.

Jessie smirked a little. In some small way, life was getting back to normal.

How long it would stay like that, however, remained to be seen.

* * *

Clouds swirled around idly and the wind whistled a mournful tune as the balloon drifted lazily through the sky. It was late morning now, and the trio of incompetent thieves were hoping that they would reach headquarters in good time – at least before the news of Ash's victory reached the ears of Giovanni.

Meowth watched James impatiently, his tail swishing as his lavender haired comrade poured studiously over a map of the Flaviaosa region.

"Jeez, Jimmy, how hard is it ta read a map?" he grumbled.

"Be quiet, furball!" James whined. "I'm trying to find where we are on this stupid thing!"

Meowth sighed and hopped down from his perch. "I t'ink it might help if ya actually held da bloody t'ing da right way up."

"Oh," James said sheepishly, righting the paper immediately. "I knew that – I was just testing you."

"Yeah, whatever," Meowth decided to humour the poor boy and climbed back up to his post, surveying James out of the corner of his eye should he need any more assistance.

There were a few minutes of silence. Jessie rested her elbows on the side of the basket and gazed down at the world below them. Even from this height, she could make out the colourful streamers and banners adorning the town below them. News of Ash's victory had reached even the remotest part of the region.

Which made it even more imperative that they reached headquarters soon.

"I know where we are now!"

James' delighted cry stirred her from her disheartening trance. With an effort, she turned to face her partner.

"Where are we, den?" questioned Meowth.

"We're flying over Sundance Town at the moment," said James. "So we should be there in…" he glanced at the alarm clock he had placed on the basket's floor, "about ten minutes,"

Jessie and Meowth exchanged furtive glances and looked away quickly, unwilling to read the worry in each other's eyes.

Jessie just hoped they weren't too late.

* * *

_Unknown location, Flaviaosa_

Headquarters was bustling with life, even at this early hour, buzzing with agents preparing their cargo and grunts checking the weapons.

James had never liked returning to base. The atmosphere was always tense, and pleasantries were never exchanged. The sad truth was that no agent trusted any other, save for their partner. Life was all about ranking and league tables now; the poor souls had been brainwashed into thinking that nothing else was needed. You were hated if you were good at stealing, and you were hated if you were bad at it. It was impossible to win, really. But at least if the agents were good at it, there were the unwilling feelings of awe, envy, and fear as well as the hatred. If the agents were bad… well, they were treated as lesser mortals.

James could sense Jessie's annoyance as she marched, head held high, through the grounds of the centre. She detested this part, and James knew it. Jessie liked to think that she was as good as – and indeed better than – all of the lowlifes that worked with them. Privately, James agreed.

All around them, people stopped their work and stared at them; they whispered behind their hands or they conversed openly, not caring if the objects of their contempt were in hearing range or not. Jessie clenched her fists but her face remained impassive, an art she had long since perfected. James trotted behind her, finding it harder to pretend that he couldn't hear.

"Ignore 'em…ignore 'em…" Meowth's chant was like a charm, albeit an irritating one, and James focused his energy into blocking out the world around him.

It was always a huge relief to reach the confinement of the building. There were usually only a few agents lingering about, certainly not enough to take notice of. The trio approached the front desk, where a slender blonde woman sat typing at the computer. When she didn't even look up to acknowledge their presence, Jessie cleared her throat loudly and said, "we'd like to see the boss."

After a few more seconds, the receptionist eventually turned away from the computer screen.

"And you are?" she said disdainfully.

"We are Jessie, James an' Meowth," Meowth answered, hopping onto his preferred spot on James' shoulders. "An' it's really important dat we see da boss pronto."

"I'm sorry," she said smoothly, shuffling the papers on her desk. "But that won't be possible now. He's in with other agents. Agents who actually bothered to make appointments."

Meowth was outraged. "Whaddaya mean we can't see him now? Dis is important!"

"And so is the boss' meeting," the woman snapped with a ring of finality, glaring around at all three of them. "Now kindly take a seat. The boss will see you when he has done."

Taking the hint of their dismissal, Jessie scowled and led the way over to the waiting area, which was situated at the end of the corridor.

James sighed unhappily, and scuffed his boots dejectedly against the tiled floor. "What'll we do now?"

"What can we do?" barked Jessie. "We have to wait until he's ready to see us."

"Dat Poisian better not be dere," Meowth frowned as he plonked himself down. "I hate dat damned excuse fer a feline…"

Jessie rolled her eyes and sighed. This was the worst part of the whole visit, the apprehension each of them was feeling. It was a good way to get his members nervous. Giovanni was a cunning man.

Now it was just him against them.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, with James complaining about his empty stomach, Meowth still muttering under his breath about the Persian, and Jessie ready to give each of them concussion in turn, the door to Giovanni's office creaked open. Two figures emerged, dressed in the customary black uniforms of the agent ranks.

"Thank you, Boss! You won't regret it!" the dirty-blonde haired woman was saying with an over-exaggerated zeal. Her partner closed the door and turned. For a moment, there was a stunned silence as the four humans and the cat stared at each other.

"_You?"_ shrieked Jessie, leaping to her feet and grabbing James' hair to get him to stand too. "What the hell are you doing here, Cassidy?"

"And you, Biff!" added James.

"The name is Butch!" rasped the man through gritted teeth.

Cassidy smirked self-righteously. "Not that it's any of you two losers' business, but we've been offered a promotion to Elite Rank."

"_Elite Rank?"_ squeaked James enviously.

"Yeah. Our service has been so good recently that the boss thinks it's time we took our game to a whole new level. More advanced missions, better technology…you name it, we've got it," Butch boasted.

"Not that you two ignoramuses would understand the complex diversity of this," Cassidy said smugly, folding her arms across her chest.

"You're the blondie around here," Jessie shot back.

"Why you little –" Cassidy started forwards, her purple eyes flashing malevolently.

"Bring it, Goldilocks!" hissed Jessie.

James touched his partner's arm. "Maybe it isn't a good idea fighting right outside the boss' office," he said nervously.

Butch glanced over his shoulder. "Maybe he's right," he conceded grudgingly. "We want to leave a good impression on him, otherwise he may change his mind."

"Realise you're not cut out for the job, you mean," Jessie sneered.

"The same goes for you. No doubt you're here to beg the boss' forgiveness for screwing up again," Cassidy scoffed.

"Whaddaya mean?" Meowth said.

"We've known since yesterday," said Cassidy matter-of-factly. "_Everyone_ here knows. You messed up. The little brat you were following has beaten the Elite Four. He's a member now. Ultimately, you've failed. The boss is furious."

James visibly paled, and exchanged a worried look with Jessie. If that was the case, then they might as well kiss their jobs goodbye.

"Anyway, that's the _rumour_," Cassidy said lazily. "But it needs confirmation…"

Jessie opened her mouth, incensed that Cassidy actually had the audacity to imply that they should admit to it, but before she had chance to speak a grunt hurried up to the group.

"Miss Cassidy and Master Botch, your cargo is ready,"

"It's _Butch_!" growled the teal haired man in resentment.

The grunt looked slightly put-out, but made no comment. "I've come to show you where I loaded it all."

"Lead the way then, pipsqueak," Cassidy ordered, and with one last triumphant simper, followed the grunt away.

Silence ensued.

"Well," Meowth said quietly. "Dat's it den, ain't it? What'll we do?"

Jessie was determined. "We go in. I'm not letting that ugly old cow get away with saying that we've been fired!"

"There's nothing we can do now, Jess," James whimpered. "It's probably already been decided."

"Well, we'll go and bloody well change his mind!" Jessie growled, and taking hold of her partner's arm, she dragged him towards the boss' office, still completely riled. James glanced helplessly at Meowth, who merely shrugged, knowing that nothing either of them said could possibly change the fiery redhead's mind. She raised her fist and rapped smartly on the door.

"Enter," the voice was curt and hostile, but for once this did not dissuade Jessie. She simply pushed open the door and walked inside.

The room was luxurious. Pictures of rare Pokémon hung on the cream walls. The Persian that Meowth hated so much was curled up in a corner of the room sleeping, and the blood red carpet was soft underfoot, muffling the footsteps of the trio of thieves as they made their way to the front of Giovanni's desk. They bent in the customary bow of respect, keeping their eyes trained firmly on the floor. James' knees were shaking so badly that he was positive it would not go unnoticed by the boss.

"Sir, we have some news for you," Jessie started bravely, after she had straightened up.

"What is it?" Giovanni sounded almost bored already.

She decided on the truth first. "Well, sir, we've come to tell you that we –"

"Dat we kinda lost da Pikachu again," Meowth finished tactlessly. "An' da kid was admitted inta da Elite Four."

Jessie stamped on the feline's tail with the heel of her boot, shutting him up immediately. "We can explain."

"There is no need to," Giovanni said coldly. "I have already obtained all the details. The question now is how to deal with you."

"D–Deal with us?" squealed James, edging behind his partner as he did so.

"Yes, James," the boss stated calmly, "deal with you."

"But sir, it really wasn't our fault! We had the rat, but the leader of the Elite Four turned up and helped the brat out – we had no chance…" Jessie sounded pathetic, and she knew it.

Slowly, deliberately, Giovanni stood. Stretched. Walked round to the front of his desk and stopped in front of his three quaking field agents. The terror could not be more apparent in James' eyes, and even Jessie looked slightly afraid as he began to pace before them, a predator waiting for his chance to strike.

"Six years," he began in a low voice. "Six years I have put up with you delinquents messing up time and time again. And each time I have forgiven you, thought that one of these days I might actually have been rewarded for my patience. Yet here you stand once again, with one more mark of a loss, and absolutely nothing to show the contrary. And not only have you lost, you've cost me that one damned Pikachu. You've cost me thousands." His cruel eyes hardened further. "And this is the last straw. You've allowed the boy – a _boy_ – to drag our name through the mud. Made our – _my_ – name a laughing stock. And I will not put up with it any longer."

"Please, Boss." Jessie found her voice again. "Give us one last chance –"

"No."

Meowth made a sound as though he had terrible constipation. "Ya can't fire us!"

"Oh can't I?" he sneered softly.

The Persian lifted its head and hissed warningly.

"We'll get that Pika–"

"You're dismissed," Giovanni stated simply, a shadow of a mirthless smile adorning his features. James and Meowth exchanged dumbfounded looks, and even Jessie was at a loss for words.

"D–Dismissed?" she said softly, her sapphire eyes sparking with an ancient relic that did not suite her face. James was distressed; he reached out for his best friend's shoulder.

"C'mon, Jess," he said quietly, eyes darting nervously from Giovanni to the waiting Meowth by the door, who had already begun making a break for freedom. "There's nothing we can do. Let's just go…"

"A wise decision for one so stupid," the boss sneered, stepping forward slightly, making Meowth whimper faintly.

"Please, Jess," implored James, tugging her, and she relented against him, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Together they turned, a duo chained as one by grief, and headed towards the outside.

"And don't," Giovanni's voice cut the silence like a knife through tender skin, "even think about betraying our secrets to the police. Because if you did, you'd get yourselves into a hell of a lot of trouble, and I'd personally make sure you'd never see the light of day again, if you catch my meaning."

James gulped.

"We understand, sir," he squeaked, and touched the hard mahogany of the exit with trembling fingers. It gave way, and the cat made a dash for it first, tail between his legs. With one last glance over his shoulder, James allowed the door to swing shut.

Smothering silence arose.

Then…

Giovanni picked up the phone and dialled in a number. The smooth voice of the receptionist was his reward.

"Sir?"

"Marianne," he said, "send for agents one-one-seven and two-two-five. I have an important…assignment for them."

Only the Persian crouched in the corner heard his evil laughter.

* * *

The humiliation was unbearable. Everywhere they looked, Rockets were there, staring, muttering…and now James realised why the members had been so excited on their way in. The agents had known before they had…it had been on the cards ever since the news of Ketchum's victory had reached headquarters. No wonder Cassidy and Butch had been so jubilant…

One foot in front of the other; a mechanical sort of dance. James kept his eyes trained firmly in front of him, unwilling to see the faces of the people who, up until a few minutes ago, had been on the same side as him.

"I really hope we don't run inta Cassidy and Botch again," frowned Meowth as he hopped onto the lavender haired man's shoulders. "Cuz I don't t'ink dat Jessie will be able ta take it."

James sighed sadly as he watched his red haired partner striding a few paces in front of them.

"I know. But...this job has always been special to her," he said mournfully. "She always wanted to be great, like her mother."

"I know Jimmy, but I t'ink she'll be okay. We're gonna have ta pull t'rough dis as a team. Da boss may have fired us…but dere are plenty of t'ings we can still do."

"Like what?" said James. "I mean, who's gonna want to set on three ex-Team Rocket members?"

"Ya do have a point," Meowth conceded, "but we've gotta find _somet'in'_! An' besides, we'll be goin' t'rough it tagedda, like we always have."

"But what if she doesn't want us anymore?" whispered James. "Then what?"

"Aww, shaddup James. Dis is _Jessie_ we're talkin' about! She'd never leave us!"

"Yeah, I know…" he said worriedly. "But what if she really, really doesn't want us?" It wouldn't be the first time she'd have left him, after all. "There's no way I can force her to stick with me, but…" He craned his neck so he was looking the feline full in the face, eyes glistening with tears. "I can't lose her, either."

"Da lot of yer kind are idiots, Jim, ya know dat?" Meowth said softly, rubbing against the young man, sensing his unhappiness. "Why youse all can't admit dat ya like each oder is beyond Meowth. An' don't try ta deny it," he added, knowing that James had opened his mouth in protest. "It's obvious dat ya have a t'ing fer her. Poor goil just don't realise it. Nah, I'd radda be a Pokémon any day. Now stop wallowin' in self-pity, an' let's just concentrate on gettin' outta here. I know we feel bad now…but maybe we'll feel better later on."

"Guess you're right," sighed James. But although he continued, one foot in front of the other, he could not stop the icy tears from falling, something Meowth failed to realise. And neither of them could know that twenty metres in front, Jessie was doing exactly the same.

* * *

Miles from base, they stopped. They had walked for hours, their weary feet dragging along the dirty path, heads hanging low. Jessie still led the trio, never allowing them near enough to notice the smudged mascara on her pale face. She couldn't let them see her break down, because she was strong, and they needed her to keep that way.

That was what she told herself.

The sun was low on the horizon now, an orange ball of fire, diminishing for a few hours once again, allowing the moon to control the skies. The road before them forked off into three: a path straight ahead of them, one to the left, and one to the right.

"I t'ink we should rest here fer da night," Meowth said, surveying the surrounding area and seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Yeah, whatever." James heaved a sigh and flopped down onto the parched grass. Jessie however, remained standing, her eyes narrowed, locked onto the path that was in front of her.

Her destiny could be out there, on that trail…

"Jess?" James sat up, in tune with his partner's mood. "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this, James," she said softly. "I can't stay here with you."

In that instant, James' heart broke.

"W–What do you mean?" he stammered, desperately clinging on to the chance that she was only joking.

_("But what if she doesn't want us anymore? Then what?"_

"_Aww, shaddup James. Dis is Jessie we're talkin' about! She'd never leave us!")_

"You wouldn't leave us…" he whispered.

Meowth paused in the middle of cleaning his paws, turning his head from one to the other, as though it was a tennis match and he was watching the ball.

"Guys…" he murmured.

Neither of them acknowledged him. They only had eyes for each other.

"I have to leave, James," she said quietly. "I mean, what will we achieve staying together?"

A one word answer: "Friendship."

"Friendship isn't enough," she said. "We need money, proper jobs now. We're not Team Rocket. You have to understand that. We need to go our own separate ways, if only to keep ourselves in with a chance of survival."

"Is it me?"

Jessie was taken aback. "You?"

"Am I the reason you're leaving?" James' eyes were pleading to know the truth, however demoralising. "Is it my fault?"

"Of course it's not your fault," she said quietly, taking in his sad eyes and desperate face.

Meowth snorted. "Sure it's not. Ya really don't give a damn about us, do ya? An' ta t'ink dat we were _friends_ wid ya!"

"Don't be stupid. You know I care," she shot back. "But I don't want you ruining your chances of a good life because of me!"

"Radda youse don't want us draggin' ya down," he sneered, unsheathing his claws and glaring disdainfully. "But see if I care! I'm gonna go back ta Hollywood! I don't need _youse_ ta be great! James, let's go!"

He stalked away and turned to his friend. James was still staring at her, disbelief written all over his features. But there was also something else intertwined in there: resignation.

"If that's what you want," he said softly, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. "I'm not gonna stop you if that's what you want."

It wasn't what she really wanted, but… "I think it would be for the best."

"Jimmy, c'mon," Meowth shouted, beckoning him with a cream paw.

He was torn: go with the feline or at least give one last-ditched attempt to try to persuade Jessie to stay if he could. In the end he chose neither. "I'm going it alone, then."

Meowth's furry jaw dropped.

"What?" he yelped.

James avoided his eye. "No offence, Meowth, but I don't really want to go to Hollywood. I can't recall seeing any pretty girls there."

Jessie felt a stab of jealousy, striking deep within the walls of her heart. "So where will you go?"

He shrugged wretchedly as Meowth stormed past them, nose upturned. "I dunno. Home, I guess."

"To that fiancé of yours?" she needed to know, no matter how much it hurt her.

James was getting teary eyed, and hated himself for it. "Yeah, I suppose. My mom and dad want me to marry, so I guess I'll have to take some responsibility, even if I am terrified of Jessibelle…"

For some reason, this seemed a very disagreeable notion to her. She tried to tell herself that it was because she looked upon him like a brother, and she didn't want to see him married to someone who wouldn't make him happy.

_If she's not right for him, who is?_

She pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind. "Fine."

"So," he glanced over her shoulder at the retreating figure of one of his closest friends, "this is goodbye."

She nodded, suddenly overcome with an unknown emotion. "I suppose it is."

He extended a shaking hand, a formal show of friendship. She took it.

For a moment they stayed quite still, a moment lost to the wind. Then, simultaneously, they closed the gap between them and grasped each other as hard as they could. James could not stop the warm liquid from leaking behind his closed eyes as he breathed in the scent he had grown to love over the years. She was going. Leaving him.

"Oh, Jess," he sobbed, convulsing with the effort of keeping his tears at bay.

Against her will, Jessie could feel her own tears sliding down her cold flesh. An eternity seemed to pass as they held each other in their arms.

"Don't go," he whispered into her hair, unable to stop himself. "I – I need you."

"Please, James," Jessie said, loosening her grip on him. "Don't be silly. You're only saying that."

"No, I'm not," he whimpered, willing her to see the truth in his eyes. "I think – I _know_ – I…I love you!"

And grasping what little courage he had, he did something he had been yearning to do for years.

He kissed her.

His hands slid from around her shoulders to rest lightly on her hips. For a heartbeat she remained cold and unresponsive, but then she melted into him, opening her mouth wide to make room for his tongue…she could still feel the salty sorrow of his tears slipping down his cheeks. It was like heaven to her, a sanctuary she had been seeking her entire life. It was perfect, it was –

_It's James,_ she thought, and with a jolt realised just what she was doing. She pushed him away hastily. Their teeth grazed each other as they parted. His eyes were still overly bright from tears, she suspected, that were all too ready to fall.

"Please," she said softly. "Please don't do this to me."

His face fell dramatically, clouding with confusion. "W–What?"

"You don't love me. You _don't_!"

"I do! Why else would I say it?"

"James, you're making things too complicated. You're kidding yourself – you really don't love me!"

"But, I want to spend the rest of my life with you! I want us to elope, start a new life together, maybe have kids sometime…" He was waffling now, but he could not stop himself. What else could he do? She was refusing to believe him, refusing him full stop…

There was a sharp crack, and James was sent reeling backwards. He held his cheek, too shocked to even cry. Jessie herself was attempting to keep her tears at bay.

"Just let me go, James," she said softly. "I need to do this."

He realised he had lost the fight.

"Okay," he said softly, ignoring the splintering of his heart. Slowly, he stepped back from her. "I hope you can be happy again," he said sadly. "Even if it isn't with me."

She nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak. If she did, she'd only make the situation worse for the both of them.

_He loves me…_

Without another word but a sort of awkward nod, he stepped past her and chose the road to the right of them. Jessie watched him go for a moment, then glanced at the one the cat had selected. He was only about a quarter of the way down it, probably because of the size of his small legs. Jessie sighed and turned towards her own path, her feet mechanically padding down the trail. And while she walked, she dreamed about her friends and the words James had spoken…

She remembered the times that they had spent together. The fierce arguments. The awkward make-ups. The handholding. The way it had always felt to be in his arms.

And then she thought of the life she would have without him. Of sitting alone in some rundown apartment with no one to cheer her up. Of working menial jobs for a crappy wage with nothing to look forward to at home. Of retiring to a bed with cold sheets and a lumpy pillow with no one to hold her at night or love her gently in the heated darkness.

She had always heard it said that people didn't appreciate what they had until it was gone.

And it was in that instant that it hit her. She loved him too.

What a time to realise her feelings, when the two of them had said goodbye for the very last time, when she had rejected him for telling her that he wanted her. How had she never comprehended it before? All those times they had spent together, sleeping close to each other, for Mew's sake. And yet it was now – bloody _now_ – that she had chosen to acknowledge her feelings for her partner.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meowth trooping down the path on her left, evidently unhappy but determined to continue, not to crack…

And to her right. The only man she'd ever truly loved. Distressed because of her. Distressed because she'd rejected him and told him she didn't need him, when in reality, her being required him more than anything else. And he was walking out of her grasp, away from her for ever. Could she let that happen? Could she ever find someone to replace him?

The answer was simple.

One glance. She'd have one last glance, commit each feature of his side profile to memory and lock them deep inside her heart. Then she'd turn and go.

She'd survived before, and she could again.

The blaze of the setting sun burst forth in a kaleidoscope of colours, lighting him in an angelic luminosity. His tense shoulders were still shaking, and Jessie could just about make out the tears on his face. Crying. He was crying for her.

And suddenly Jessie, the tough-as-nails young woman who had been alone her entire life, could no longer leave.

She had too much to lose.

Before she could stop herself, she had whirled around and was sprinting as fast as she could back the way she had come. James hadn't gotten far; his feet were dragging noncommittally down his designated path. The blood was pounding in her head, her heartbeat was loud and erratic…

"James, wait!"

The breathless request was loud enough for him to hear. Eyes widening in surprise, he turned, and seconds later was bowled over by his partner.

He opened his mouth to voice his shock, but Jessie merely placed a finger to his lips and, feeling uncharacteristically conscious around him, she blurted out, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you too!"

If it was possible, James' eyes grew even larger, but he was allowed no time to speak as Jessie lowered her head and pressed her mouth firmly to his. After a moment, he responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her as close to him as was humanely possible. In his arms; there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

"Jess," he breathed, as slowly their mouths parted. "What made you change your mind?"

Jessie sat up on his chest, and looked deep into his eyes. "I guess I just imagined my life without you…and living without you is something I could never do."

James blushed and reached for her hand.

"I love you," he mumbled again, and this time Jessie smiled. Bending in so their noses were almost touching, she whispered, "the feeling's mutual," before claiming his mouth as her own.

Somehow, she knew that she'd made the right choice.

Once their need for air became greater than their desire for each other, Jessie pulled away and gazed with a satisfied fondness down at her partner.

"Come on," she said softly, offering her hand as she got to her feet. "Let's go make a future for ourselves."

James grinned readily and accepted her help.

"Yeah," he echoed brightly. "We can do anything! We're still the invincible Jessie and James!"

"Aren't youse conveniently forgettin' someone?"

Startled, the duo turned to find Meowth standing behind them, arms folded in a disapproving gesture.

"Of all da noive," he sniffed censoriously. "I've been gone five minutes an' I find ya eatin' each oder alive wid plans ta start a new life tagedda widout me!"

"Oh, stop being such a drama cat," sighed Jessie, gathering the cat in her arms. "You're the most infuriating creature alive, but you're still a part of our family. So what do you say to starting over, just the three of us?"

"Well, I s'pose I gotta keep youse two in check ain't I? Ya know, ya'll need a babysitter fer da future when ya have liddle Jimmys runnin' wild. I guess dat's better dan bein' da cat's Meowth."

"Well then," Jessie chose to ignore Meowth's dig and turned to her best friend and partner, unable to stop the grin that spread over her face as Meowth clambered over onto James' shoulders. "Are we gonna do this?"

"Yeah!" Meowth agreed.

"As long as we're together, we can do anything," James said softly, tentatively taking Jessie's hand. "We can be penniless for the rest of our lives and we'll be richer than the boss ever can be, because," he looked from one to the other, "we have each other."

"Okay, James, sappy enough," Jessie groaned, before leaning in and kissing his cheek.

The sun glowed on the horizon, highlighting the area with its spellbinding light.

Yes, Jessie reflected happily, who really cared if the insolent brat had become a member of the Elite Four? He had won that one battle, and the boss had fired them, but what was that compared to being alive and free, with the man that she loved more than anything?

They had lost the battle, with many casualties along the way. But all had not been in vain, for ultimately, they had won the war.


	3. The Cold, Hard Truth

_3. The Cold, Hard Truth_

_Unknown location, Flaviaosa_

_20th August, 2017._

"He suspects." The fact was uttered quietly, nervously.

He turned away from the window where he was surveying his empire. "I know. There have been…reports, shall we say. But I do not think he will have his guard too high. After all…we've left him in peace for four years. We have been nowhere near the entire region."

"What do you propose we do, sir?"

The man walked around his desk deliberately, his cold eyes never leaving the nervous boy's face.

"We do it," he said simply. "Today. Each and every one of us has had enough practice to fulfil this."

The boy flinched slightly as the order was issued, unwilling to see blood shed, but knowing better than to argue with the powerful man before him. "Who do you want to see, sir?"

He glanced down at the files on the smooth oak desk. "I think agents two- two -five and one-one-seven will suffice. Tell them to come up here immediately. I need to run the mission by them."

"Certainly, sir," the young man bowed his head and, without turning his back on his leader, departed from the room, leaving him alone. Lying carelessly on the floor was the photo of a young man, his black spiky hair untidy, a broad grin on his face. Stamped across the top of this was one grim word: Wanted.

* * *

_Zodorio City, Flaviaosa_

Mark Anderson was surprised that the park was quiet. At this time of the year, when the most brutal heat wave of summer hit, it was usually teeming with parents, young children and many different kinds of Pokémon. Now, it was deserted. This did not put him off, though – he preferred the quiet days, for it was much easier to train when there was no one around to interrupt. He couldn't afford to slip up, being the leader of the Elite Four.

"Come on, Floatzel," he said, motioning with a tanned arm to the shade of the trees. His Floatzel nodded solemnly and waddled forward, her tail swaying to and fro as she did so. She was still trying to perfect her Razor Wind, an attack she was finding difficult, but Mark was patient. He released his Infernape and he roared his name, crouching down on all fours and awaiting his instructions.

"Now," Mark said, "Infernape, I want you to attack Floatzel with whatever attack you think best fits. Floatzel, I want you to attempt to defeat Infernape with no other attack but Razor Wind. If it gets too much, stop fighting and we'll rest. Okay?"

"Float," the sea weasel Pokémon nodded, and positioned herself across from the monkey one. She refused to lose to a type weak against herself. Infernape gave a cheeky grin and sprang forwards his body on fire. Floatzel tensed her muscles and leapt to one side as the monkey reached her. However, Infernape whirled around, body still burning, and leapt at her again, this time catching Floatzel full in the face. She yowled in surprise, attempting to shake away the spots which had erupted in front of her vision. She didn't have time to dodge the Close Combat attack, and the weasel was sent crashing to the ground, smashing her snout on the large roots of the old tree. There was a splintering sound as her nose snapped.

"Oh, God," muttered Mark, rushing to the faithful Pokémon's side. Infernape dropped onto all fours again and bounded to his master's side. Floatzel stood shakily, her muzzle dripping with blood from her broken snout.

"Sorry about that, buddy," Mark said as he placed a reassuring hand on his partner's shoulder. "That's once nasty break you have there. We need to get you to a Pokémon Center straight away."

"Floab," Floatzel shook her head vehemently and gritted her teeth. With an effort she dived forwards, tackling the unsuspecting Infernape to the floor. He chattered in anger as he rose to his feet, annoyed at having been caught off-guard. He fired a well -aimed Flamethrower at the sea weasel, and although Floatzel's reactions were slightly slower than usual, she managed to dodge. She focused all of her remaining energy into powering up her Razor Wind attack…

The shot sent the bough of the tree tumbling down onto the battle, catching Floatzel in the side of the head. She crashed into the earth with a sickening crunch for the second time in the last few minutes. The vibrations knocked both Mark and Infernape off of their feet, and for a moment they stayed quite still, winded. Eventually, groaning, Mark managed to sit up and glance around at his comrades.

"You guys okay?"

A weak utterance of Floatzel's name told the contrary, but for the moment, Mark decided to ignore it, and turned to Infernape, who was already back on his feet.

"Infernape, go check the treetops," he ordered, unable to shake off the gnawing sense of foreboding in his stomach. The shot had sounded so much like one from a gun…

The fire type Pokémon nodded his approval and agilely bounded up the nearest tree. Mark watched him swing from branch to branch for a moment, then turned back to his Floatzel. Her breathing was laboured, but she still tried to stand.

"Relax a minute while Infernape gets back," said Mark kindly, resting his hand on her head.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the tree nearest to them. Mark was alert in a flash; his cerulean eyes searching the treetops for the source of the noise. A glint of stainless steel caught his eye: it was trained directly at the tree which Infernape had just disappeared up.

"Infernape, get out of there now!" he screamed, realising what was going to happen too late. There was a crack like thunder, and the flame Pokémon fell out of the tree, bleeding profusely from the head. He was quite obviously dead.

"Holy shit," Mark breathed, his eyes wide as he scoured the treetops once more, backing away and dragging Floatzel with him as he did so. He nudged her gently, attempting to force her back onto her feet. She swayed, clearly disorientated, her pelt dyed red from her own blood. Mark knew he did not have much time.

"Look, Floatzel," he said quickly, urgently. "Go get help. Anyone will do. There's not much t–"

The third shot pierced the air, hitting him cleanly in the chest. He gasped, eyes dilated, and grasped desperately at the wound. Blood seeped from between the gaps in his fingers. Then he keeled over. Whether he was unconscious or dead, Floatzel did not know. But what she did know was what he wanted her to do: go get help. Woozily, she tried to run in the general direction of the exit, but she was too slow. She was certainly no match to outrun a bullet.

Slowly, the assassins slid out of their tree, the first surveying the destruction with an almost sick sort of interest, whilst the other looked pale and promptly threw up.

"That was terrible," she said shakily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Even worse than all the rest put together."

"It's over now," the first said soothingly. "We should probably head back and get our next assignment."

"Are you sure he's really dead?" the second was uncertain, but the first had already stepped over the lifeless Floatzel.

"It doesn't matter either way. He won't survive out here, all alone."

The second chanced one last glance over her shoulder and hastened to catch up with her accomplice, leaving the young man, the leader of the Elite Four, in a pool of his own blood, with only the carcasses of his two devoted Pokémon for company.

* * *

_Cerulean City, Kanto._

Ash Ketchum strolled into the room, his black hair a mess, buttoning his shirt as he did so, a giddy grin plastered across his features. Pikachu was curled up on one side of the settee. Misty, his lover, was on the other side, scratching the Pokémon between the ears, a dressing gown wrapped around her slim form. Ash gave a smirk and bent in to give Misty a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, Ash," she sighed contentedly as he slid her onto his lap. Pikachu raised his head, yawned widely, and bounded out of the room to give his owner some privacy.

For a moment, the young lovers were silent, then they burst out laughing.

It had been a perfect weekend. Ash had travelled over from Flaviaosa after getting consent from Mark, and had arrived in Kanto late Friday night. Misty had been waiting. She had taken his breath away: for the first time in three years, since their encounter in the first year of Ash's Elite Four journey, they had come face-to-face. She had changed in that short space of time. Her hair was slightly longer, and she had lost her tomboyish air. In Ash's eyes, she was more beautiful than she ever had been to him.

That night, they had made love for the first time.

It had been perfect, the joining of two souls destined to be together. Ash was still in awe that Misty had chosen him – _him_ of all people – to spend the rest of her life with.

On the night Ash had been admitted into the Elite Four, Misty had phoned him. She had been unable to make it to the championships, but had wished him luck the previous night. As he'd come face to face with her on the video screen, he'd felt an unmistakeable desire welling up inside him: love. Plain and simple, that had been what he had felt for her. After a long discussion over the inner nooks of his valiant battle, he had finally grasped his courage firmly with both hands and confessed his feelings for her, waiting to be rejected.

The rejection had not come.

Up until that weekend, they had only ever spent one other day together. Ash's hectic life as an Elite Four member did not grace him with much spare time, and Misty herself was busy with the Cerulean City gym.

Ash shook his head, removing these thoughts. Misty was scrutinising him with a twinkle in her eyes. She always seemed to know what he was thinking, as though they shared one mind, one heart. Although he was young, there was no doubt in Ash's mind. The two of them would be together for ever. Smiling slightly, he leaned in and kissed her. She met him more than halfway there, her arms wrapping around him, pushing him down…

_Ring, ring, ring! Ring, ring, ring! Phone call! Phone call! Ring, ring, ring…_

Sighing, Ash sat up, dislodging Misty slightly. He reached across for the green phone which was situated on the wall behind the sofa. Who could possibly want to disturb them?

It was Daisy, Misty's older sister.

"Like, sorry for bothering you guys," she smirked slightly, noticing Ash's flushed face. "But this is like, majorly important. Your friend Lottie is on the line, and she's like, totally upset about something. I'll pass you over."

Ash and Misty exchanged quizzical glances. What was wrong with her?

After an age, the video screen switched over to a panicked looking Charlotte.

"Ash, thank God!" she breathed. "I was worried you wouldn't be in!"

"What's wrong, Charl?" he asked, noting the puffy eyes, the shaking hands. Her hair was lank, and she looked terrible.

"It's awful!" she said, flustered. "Andrea told me to come and phone you – it's really important you come back here immediately!"

"Charlotte, you're not making sense. It's my weekend off, I –"

"Forget that," she almost screamed. "Ash – Mark has been shot!"

There was a shocked silence. Misty's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. Ash couldn't seem to breathe. He worked his mouth furiously for a few moments, transfixed by Charlotte's terrorised face.

"When?" he croaked. "How?"

Charlotte shrugged helplessly. "We don't know, Ash. We only got the phone call ourselves about half an hour ago – we know nothing. Mark isn't making sense, just asking for you…"

"So he's alive then?" Ash let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't get your hopes up, Ash," Charlotte said quietly, hanging her head. "He's suffering from severe wounds to the chest. They've managed to remove the bullet, but his chances don't look good…he's lost his Infernape and Floatzel too. They were found dead at the scene."

Ash ran a hand through his messy hair distractedly. "Who the hell did this?"

"We don't know…" she whispered miserably, pulling regretfully on her ponytail, her large brown eyes pleading with him to believe her. He did.

"I'm coming over," he said forcefully, getting off of the sofa and adjusting his cap. "Pikachu, get in here now!"

From the bedroom, Pikachu's ears flickered in the direction of his master's voice. Hearing the sharp tone, the electric rodent hopped off the bed, wondering what he had done wrong to be talked to like that. He bounded into the room on all fours and leapt onto Ash's shoulder, noticing Charlotte on the screen at once.

"Pika!" he greeted her.

Charlotte managed a weak smile, then turned back to Ash. "I knew you'd say that, Ash, so I've sent Dragonite over to fetch you. He's fast; you'll be with us in an hour at most. We're in the Zodorio City Royal Hospital."

"Okay, Lottie," Ash said softly, his eyes filling up with unwanted tears. He blinked fiercely, unwilling to cry. "I'll see you there, then."

"In a while, Ash," she nodded, with a brave attempt at her old cheerfulness and with that, the screen went blank, leaving the two young adults in a united grief.

* * *

"Phone me when you get there," Misty said quietly.

The two of them were standing outside the Cerulean City gym, Dragonite at Ash's side. Pikachu was already aboard the large dragon Pokémon, looking quite upset. He had always liked Mark.

"I will," Ash replied sadly. He opened his arms hesitantly, and Misty stepped into them. They hugged each other hard, hot tears spilling from Ash's hazelnut eyes. "I'm sorry this has happened, Mist. I was enjoying our time together."

"Don't be silly, Ash," she lectured him gently. "Getting to Mark is the most important thing for the moment. We'll get another chance at this. Just make sure you let me know how Mark is."

"Thanks, Misty," he murmured, releasing her and climbing onto the patiently waiting Dragonite. The Pokémon emitted a cry and began beating his small wings, ready for take-off.

Ash bent into the dragon and closed his eyes against the blast of the cold wind as the Pokémon leapt up, using his powerful haunches for better lift. Pikachu waved sadly at the quickly diminishing figure of Misty, and she waved back, trying to show that she wasn't as apprehensive about the situation as she truly felt.

* * *

_Zodorio City, Flaviaosa._

It was half past twelve when Ash finally reached Zodorio City. He landed on the boundaries of the metropolis and slid off Dragonite's back. Pikachu leapt onto his master's shoulder and clung on to the official Pokémon League cap that Ash still donned, even if he was twenty years old. It was a lucky charm of some sort to him, much more precious than any old hat.

Ash wished it would bring Mark the luck he needed for survival.

He kept his head low, hoping to melt into the dreary backdrop, not wanting to be seen by the average citizen. Normally he loved the attention being an Elite Four member brought; now, he longed to be the typical conscientious resident.

In no time at all, he had reached the front of the hospital. A huge crowd was gathered around its glass doors, inhabitants of the city and news reporters alike. They jostled for attention, attempting to push their way through, eager to get in and see for themselves the devastation that would stare them in the face – the devastation which was Mark Anderson, their leader, and the one the whole of Flaviaosa looked up to and worshipped like a god. Slowly, Ash tried to edge his way through the tidal wave of people.

"Hey, look! It's Ash Ketchum!" someone shouted, and the whole audience rounded on him. Cameras were flashing in his direction, blinding him. Pikachu gave an odd whining squeal and covered his eyes. Ash pushed his way through the dense congregation. He did not recognise the people. His mind was warped. He no longer knew anyone.

_Someone in this crowd might have shot Mark…_

"Mr. Ketchum! Can you tell us anything about the events of this morning?" The microphone was shoved under his nose by a woman with short brown hair. Excitedly, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Tell us: who shot Mark Anderson?"

"No comment," Ash muttered, trying his best to edge around the woman, but the rest of the throng had closed in, making escape impossible...

"Gyarados, Hydro Pump now!"

There was a roar of outrage, and the gathering, now soaked to the skin, hastily parted, and without waiting for another opportunity, Ash made a dash for the front of the hospital. Andrea's Gyarados glared nastily at the mob and reared to his full height, sending shivers down the onlookers' spines. Andrea gave a humourless smile of satisfaction, and recalled the water snake Pokémon to his Pokéball. Quickly, she moved away from the doors, signalling for Ash to follow. He complied with one last glance at the doors, which a couple of Chansey were now guarding.

"He's up on the Gible Ward," Andrea explained. Even the cold hearted Pokémon Master looked like she had shed tears – but then again, she had been Mark's lover for the past year. They had been the perfect match.

Ash's heart sank as he heard this. Everyone knew the Gible Ward was for the patients in critically unstable conditions. What did that prove about Mark's chances of survival?

"We're here," Andrea's hushed voice broke his chain of thoughts and he started, not realising the two of them had reached the designated area.

Mark had his own room, away from the rest of the ill people. Mechanically, Andrea pushed open the door. Slowly, Ash's eyes adjusted to the near darkness. There was only a small chink in the curtains, in which a very weak ray of sunlight trickled through. Charlotte was sitting on the edge of one of the rigid chairs set around the bed, grasping Mark's hand tightly. The man himself was on his back, immobile, his eyes firmly closed, but he didn't appear to be sleeping. Andrea gave Ash a little shove in the small of his back, and he stumbled forwards towards his leader. Pikachu transferred himself from his master's shoulder to the crisp sheets of the hospital bed. At this, Mark opened his eyes and raised a frail hand, rubbing the electric mouse's furry chin. Pikachu squeaked in delight and shut his eyes. Cautiously, Ash made his way over to Mark and took a seat next to Charlotte. He had never visited anyone close to him in hospital before, apart from his Pikachu, and he was unsure of how to act. There was no use pretending everything was dandy, but Ash did not want to acknowledge the truth, either.

Mark looked terrible. His long green hair was lank and plastered to his flushed face. His sapphire eyes were overly bright, and the bed sheets were stained with his blood. With her free hand, Charlotte patted Ash's leg, sensing his distressing train of thoughts.

"He's here, Mark," Andrea said grimly, though she didn't need to, pulling the third chair as close to the bed as possible.

Mark nodded, indicating he had heard her and, with an effort, raised himself so he was now sitting up. His body did not agree with his choice of movements; he convulsed and clutched painfully at his chest, issuing numerous agonising moans. Charlotte fussed over getting his pillows comfortably behind him, but he brushed her off impatiently, fixating Ash with a penetrating stare, making the younger man nervous.

He was yet to speak, and feeling the disapproving eyes of Andrea on him, he said the only thing he could think of. "I'm sorry for your loss."

How hollow did those words sound? How ironic? Floatzel and Infernape were dead, and Mark himself might soon be following them.

Mark's eyes sparked. "Don't mention that," he growled, clenching his bloody fists, and Ash closed his mouth, surprised by the viciousness in his leader's voice. Andrea gripped one of Mark's shaking hands and massaged the back of it with her thumb soothingly. It seemed to work; Mark reclined back against the headboard, puffing.

"Do you remember what happened?" Ash said tentatively, drawing his chair closer to the bed. Charlotte squeezed his fingers reassuringly. There was something oddly comforting about the sensation, and Ash returned the gesture with fervour.

Mark was still, his hand frozen in Andrea's, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. Slowly, he nodded.

"We were in the park," he said softly, the words forced from his mouth. "I wanted Floatzel to perfect her Razor Wind, so I released Infernape to battle her. One thing led to another, and Floatzel…well, she got injured. Then I heard something, so I sent Infernape up to the treetops to check it out. Next thing I knew, Infernape was dead, and I got shot…I don't remember anything after that. I woke up in here and the doctors told me my Pokémon were dead and I'd be following them shortly."

"Damn," Ash breathed, as Pikachu gave a squeak of consolation. "Who'd do such a thing?"

Mark's expression darkened. "Oh, I think I know who did this."

"Huh?" cried Charlotte, raising her red face to look into that of her leader's.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" growled Andrea, her temper sparking. She was unused to such pressure.

Mark glared back at her with clouded eyes. "The boy needs to hear this as much, if not more, than you do, 'Drea."

She quietened at once and glanced surreptitiously at Ash. He was getting nervous. Why did he need to know more than Andrea, the second-in-command?

"So who did it?" Charlotte asked at last, after a few moments of silence.

Two words: "Team Rocket."

A collective intake of breath.

"Team Rocket?" Charlotte gasped.

Ash clenched his fists. "Those bastards!" he snarled. "I don't believe those three!" A mental image of Jessie, James, and Meowth sprang into his mind, leaning triumphantly over Mark's unconscious and bleeding body. He could certainly believe it of them; Jessie had always been a bitch…

"It wasn't those three clowns," Mark said, as though he could read his thoughts. "I'm sure of that. I didn't even realise anyone was there until it was too late, and I don't think those three could've remained undetected."

"So it was some other member of Team Rocket?"

"Yes," nodded Mark. "I'd say a higher ranked one too, to be trusted with this sort of assignment."

Ash exhaled in frustration. "Why would they want you dead?"

"I know too much, I guess," Mark shrugged noncommittally. "I've been expecting this for years. I'm surprised it took them this long. But that's not what I want to discuss. I don't have much time left, so..." he looked at Andrea, who gave her affirmation. Charlotte gave his other hand an encouraging squeeze.

"What?" Ash said, feeling a knotting sensation in his stomach.

"I want you to succeed me as leader of the Elite Four," he wheezed solemnly, his sapphire eyed gaze fixated on the young Pokémon Master.

Ash's eyes widened. "What? I can't do that – Andrea's second-in-command!"

Mark exchanged glances with the person in question. "We've already discussed it. I breached the subject with her before you arrived. She's fine with you taking over. Now that we all know that Team Rocket did this to me, I need you to bring them down."

Ash looked desperately from one to the other, then rounded on faithful Charlotte for support. Even she maintained an expression of determination on the matter. Pikachu gave a _chaa_ of confusion, his black tipped ears flattened against his head, not fully understanding the great capacity of the task.

"Me?" Ash said finally. "Why do you need me to do it?"

Mark seemed ready for the question, and after feebly lowering himself into the thin hospital sheets, he was ready to answer.

Staring directly into the impulsive Pokémon trainer's hazel eyes, he began to speak. "When you got admitted into our ranks those four years ago, it got me thinking. I knew there was something special about you – no doubt about it – but it also sparked off some concern. You had a Pikachu, which three members of Team Rocket were attempting to steal, claiming it was rare. We got rid of them, and then you challenged us.

"He was the last Pokémon you could use against me. I assessed him. He was normal to the naked eye. In fact, there _is_ nothing abnormal about him."

"Pi!" the rodent protested indignantly, but Ash ignored him, absorbed by his friend's tale. Just what was he getting at?

"Your Pikachu won the match, but it was a narrow victory. If he had been special, he would've wiped the floor with my team in a matter of minutes. This perplexed me even further. Why would an evil organisation, bent on world domination, want an average Pikachu?"

"Hang on," Ash interrupted. "If Pikachu isn't special, how come we've managed to defeat Jessie, James and Meowth every time? Are you saying that they lost on _purpose_?"

Mark shook his head, groaning softly as he did so. "I'm almost one hundred percent certain they knew nothing of your Pikachu's ordinariness. After all, they didn't seem that bright. And I'm sure they wouldn't have followed you around every region ever created if they'd had the choice. But they were on strict orders, weren't they? _Get the Pikachu_. Now, someone of high intelligence would know what we know. The only explanation I can think of is this: they weren't interested in your Pikachu. It was you they wanted."

"They wanted _me_?" Ash was unable to keep the edge of scorn out of his voice. "Why the hell would they want me?"

"Think about it, Ash," Mark said quietly. "They wanted to keep an eye on you. What better way than claim they wanted your Pokémon? I'm sure the mastermind behind the operation – Giovanni – would know that you'd go anywhere to get your Pikachu back. And then you'd be playing right into his hands, see?"

"I still don't get it! What made you think the Rockets wanted me, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," the green haired youth admitted. "I have asked around of course, and one confidante told me that she vaguely recalled a dark haired man raping a teenager many years ago, and the only conclusion I can draw is –" Suddenly he cut off, clutching his heart. He was panting now, his breaths short and sharp. Pikachu squealed in terror, and leapt into the safety of his trainer's arms.

Ash knocked his chair over in his haste to stand, fearful, his stomach lurching. He had never witnessed anyone close to him truly die before, and he had no desire to do so now. Hot tears were pouring from Charlotte's eyes as she mirrored his own actions, her nails digging into Ash's warm flesh, leaving angry dents in their wake.

In a last-ditch attempt, Mark grabbed at Ash's free arm and rasped, "remember…"

The heart monitor's beeping was becoming faster with each passing second; Ash yanked his arms free and made quickly for the door, crystal tears of horror and fear rolling down his pale face. Mark's lungs were collapsing inside his chest, filling with blood, making his eyes roll, vomiting up his own fluids…Charlotte quickly followed Ash away from the horrific scene. Once out in the corridor, they went their separate ways; Charlotte took the right, Ash the left. Only Andrea remained behind, her own pain locked inside her eyes, waiting with her lover until the very end.

Neither Ash nor Charlotte were anywhere near the ward when the doctors came along to record the time of death.

* * *

The crowds reminded Ash of a swarm of Combee, their voices a loud roar of demand.

"What's going on, Mr. Ketchum?"

"How's Mr. Anderson?"

Ash pushed his way through the dense congregation, cap pulled low over his eyes. He couldn't afford to let them see his wet face – if he did, the media would (quite rightly) suspect the worst and, like a Growlithe with a bone, would not allow him to leave.

"No comment," he muttered, shoving aside the same woman who had interviewed him four years ago with PokéWorld TV.

_Back when Mark was alive…_

Evading the last reporter, he made a dash for it. Pikachu squeezed through the last pair of legs and bounded after him. At once, the reporters began to move too, evidently determined to get some answers. The electric mouse span back around and forced a powerful Thunderbolt through the pouches on his cheeks, hitting the floor just in front of one of the journalists. He gave a yell and leapt back, catching someone's foot as he did so.

"Watch it, will ya?" grunted the man, pushing him away. The reporter turned, furious. While they were all distracted, Pikachu slipped away, keen to find his Master.

He knew just where he would be.

* * *

Out of breath, Ash slumped against the table, his forehead pressed against the cool glass. He kept his eyes firmly shut, wishing childishly that he could turn back twenty-four hours. If he had the time again, he would have stayed at headquarters, convinced Mark to train somewhere else…

"Ash?"

He lifted his head, blinking away the bleariness. Nurse Joy stood above him, holding a cup of coffee for him to take. On her shoulder sat his Pikachu. He jumped in front of him and nuzzled against his cheek comfortingly. Ash sighed and petted his head, taking the cup from Joy with the other hand. She smiled soothingly at him and backed away.

"You know where I am if you need me," she said. "I'll send your friends up if they come in. Is that okay?"

Ash nodded, unable to speak. Joy seemed to understand, however, and after giving him one last glance, she left in the elevator to the ground floor, where undoubtedly there would be many aspiring trainers waiting to heal their Pokémon or to book a room for the night. The upper floor was for special guests only, so no one would be able to pursue him up here.

_Remember…_

Remember what? That he now had a responsibility to protect the whole of the Flaviaosa region from harm? That Mark had left him with a task to complete, a task that could, invariably, put many people in danger, including himself?

Mark was nuts, he reflected angrily, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. Completely off his rocker. Ash was the youngest Elite Four member; he had no experience leading others, had never been trained to do it. What if he messed up? It wouldn't just affect him. It would send tremors throughout the whole region, bringing it down with him…

But what about Team Rocket? If what Mark had told him was true, then he really _was_ in danger. They had murdered Mark. That showed Ash that they meant business. How many more people were they willing to slaughter to gain their prize?

It was a case of murder or be murdered.

Ash's stomach flipped. Just the thought of killing anyone made him queasy, but it seemed the only way he could escape with his own life intact.

All he'd have to do was get rid of Giovanni. The whole organisation would fall without its leader. Team Rocket would be gone, and the region would be safe once again.

He made his decision.

Standing quickly, he knocked Pikachu away, who gave an indignant cry. Ash took no notice as he strode purposefully towards the video phone in the corner. Pikachu twitched his ears in confusion, and hopped onto the seat which Ash had been occupying moments before.

_Has Ash gone mad?_ the mouse thought worriedly, surveying his friend with large black eyes.

Ash sat down and picked up the receiver. His hand shook as he dialled the familiar number. His leg jigged nervously. He took a moment to collect himself. For a second the screen fuzzed, then the image cleared.

"Ash!"

Ash tried to relax. "Hey, Mom."

Delia Ketchum took in the red eyes and harassed face of her son. She did not get many calls from him anymore, and she had trained herself into thinking the worst when he did.

The way he looked now did nothing to ease her mind.

"What's wrong, honey?" she said, twisting a piece of her long brown hair around her finger.

"I'll explain later," he muttered, not quite meeting her eye. "Can I come and visit around Thursday, with some friends?"

He sounded like the ten year old boy that she had waved off the on the day he'd left Pallet Town all over again, and it brought a lump to Delia's throat. "O–Of course you can, sweetie. Your friends are always welcome in my house."

Ash gave a forced smile. "Thanks, Mom. See you then."

"Aren't you going to explain what's going on?" Delia looked…almost afraid.

He looked into her face, into his own eyes. He had often wondered how much of his person he shared with his father. Delia never spoke of him, nor did she seem to care about him.

"I'll explain everything when I see you," he said firmly. "It's not something that can be discussed over the phone."

And with that, he put the handset down. Pikachu crept onto his knee as he picked up the phone once more and punched in a different number.

"Ash!" The reaction was what he had expected; the same surprise his mother had expressed.

"Mist, are you busy?"

Misty slowly shook her head, her eyes soaking up every detail of his haunted face.

"Good. When Charl gets here I'll ask her to send Dragonite over. Be ready for him to pick you up. Your sisters can handle the gym for a bit, can't they?"

"Sure, Ash, but what –"

"I'll explain when you get here," he cut across again, not wanting to get into details over the telephone. The screen blurred once more, and the image of his girlfriend disappeared.

Ash removed his cap and placed it on Pikachu's head, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"Pikaa?" questioned the mouse, lifting the hat up so he could see.

"Now we wait," Ash answered.

* * *

_Unknown location, Flaviaosa._

It was done. Giovanni kept the TV in his office switched on. Once, he caught a glimpse of his target, hurrying towards the hospital with his electric rat in tow.

At first, he had not been confident. The two whom he had trusted with the job hadn't killed the Elite Four leader straight away, which had been disastrous. He had punished them of course, before sending them out on the next part of their mission; he couldn't allow them to get away with mistakes like that. Now they had experienced true pain, they would not mess up again. Giovanni could only guess at the amount of information that had been relayed to the boy, or how much he could deduce from it.

It had turned out all right in the end, though. Mark had eventually died, and the boy was an easier target. He'd gotten rid of the biggest obstacle in his way.

All he had to do now was take care of the people around him. And then the path to the boy would be clear.

* * *

_Zodorio City, Flaviaosa._

Ash tapped his paper cup against the table. Misty frowned at him from across it, a signal that he should get the meeting started. He cleared his throat. All eyes were on him at once. There was no time for preamble.

"Mark got me thinking…if Team Rocket really is after me, then the rest of Flaviaosa is in danger too. They've already demonstrated that they're not afraid to kill to get to me. So what do we do to stop them?"

"We give you a makeover, a new identity and send you off to be a monk somewhere else in the world?" Charlotte joked pitifully. The cheerful young woman was still in shock.

Ash shook his head, serious. "No. We bring the battle to them."

Silence met this.

"W–What are you saying?" Misty stammered, sitting forward in her seat. Her hand reached for his.

"We have to get Giovanni before he gets us," Ash said determinedly. He glanced at Andrea, who had not spoken. "Mark told me that the whole Pikachu thing was a façade so they could keep an eye on me…he wanted – _wants_ – me to finish them off for good. It's the only way for us to be safe."

Misty gave a bark of derisive laughter and pulled her grasp free from his. "So you're just gonna march up to him and say, _Hey, can I kill you? Only I don't really wanna die, and you're hurting everyone else in the region too_, and he'll just say, _Sure, go ahead_, will he?"

"Give me a break, Mist," protested Ash. "I thought you'd be happy that I'm trying to put a stop to this!"

"Well, I highly doubt the four of us can do much," she sneered back. "You may be good, but God knows how many Rockets there are!"

"We only need to get rid of one of them," he reminded her. "And that's Giovanni."

"Yeah, and he's not going to just let you take a free shot at him! He's going to surround himself with Rockets for protection!" said Misty.

"If you'd just listen to me," Ash sighed, aggravated. "I'd like to tell you my plan."

"Let him speak," Andrea said at last, her iron grey eyes piercing into Misty. "What Ash is saying makes sense, and I'd like to hear him out."

Charlotte nodded in agreement.

Misty gave a reluctant jerk of the head, outnumbered. "Fine."

"Right, there are four of us at the moment. First, what we need are a few more willing helpers. If we can find about another six or seven trainers, we should be able to win."

"With seven trainers?" wondered Charlotte. "That's not a lot, Ash."

"If we have too many, we'll draw attention to ourselves," he answered firmly. "The less we seem to be doing, the less they'll suspect and the easier our attack will be. Then we're gonna meet in Pallet Town and find out which base Giovanni is staying in, because he's sure to have them all over. Then we're gonna attack it."

"Okay, we've heard you out," Misty said. "So who the hell are we gonna recruit, and how are we gonna get them to agree to this stupid idea?"

"Well," Ash hesitated, but only for a second. "I'm leaving that to us three, Mist. We're more experienced, and we're more likely to persuade trainers to join us because we're Elites." He disregarded her as she opened her mouth furiously. "But you've got a job that's just as important as ours. Brock still lives in Pewter City, right?"

Misty's demeanour changed dramatically.

"Yeah…why?" she asked guardedly.

"You're still friends?"

"Yes, is that a crime?" she growled defensively.

"Still see each other?"

"What's this got to do with anything?" she cried out in frustration, unwilling to answer the question.

Ash laughed and held her hand. "Jeez, Mist, stop overreacting! You're making me sound like I'm accusing you of having an affair with him or something!"

Misty blushed slightly, but regained her composure. Charlotte frowned a little.

"Anyway," Ash continued, "what I want you to do, Mist, is get Brocko to join the cause."

"What?" Misty almost screeched. "Are you mad? We don't need him!"

Ash's eyes widened as he tried to reason with his girlfriend. "Misty, he's a _Pokémon Breeder,_ for Christ's sake! He's _exactly_ the sort of person we need on our side! He can evaluate our Pokémon and advise us on which ones to take with us. I need you to persuade him –"

"Me?" Misty cut across sharply, wrenching her hands free from Ash's. "No way!"

"Why the hell are you freaking out? He was our travelling companion for God knows how long! And you said so yourself, you're still friends!"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," she grumbled.

"What, you had a falling out or something? That's fine. I'm sure he'll forgive you. Please, Mist." His desperate brown eyes searched her cerulean ones. "I need you to do this for me. If you don't…well, you're as good as helping Team Rocket. We need Brock, and you're the only one who can get him to join."

Slowly, Misty's resolution was crumbling. She couldn't resist those eyes, scorching her face with a determination she had never seen in any other person.

"O–Okay," she muttered in defeat, tearing her gaze away and examining the wall behind his head. Pikachu nuzzled against her arm sensing, but not understanding, her inner turmoil.

"Excellent!" Ash grinned broadly, then turned to his comrades. "So are you two in or out?"

"Do we have a choice?" Charlotte jested weakly, grasping his hand in affirmation. Andrea merely nodded silently, but Ash knew her heart was in it just as much as his own was. Team Rocket had murdered her lover, after all.

"Okay, guys," he said. "This is it. Andrea, I want you to search the northern towns. Charlotte, you take the west. As for me…I'll go south." He stood up. "That's it. We'll set off on Monday, guys. Use tomorrow to prepare yourself for the trip. We'll meet in Pallet on as close to Thursday as possible."

Misty jumped up too and, after muttering some excuse, made a dash for the exit. Ash watched her disappear with a look of confusion upon his face.

"What's up with her?" he commented to the other females.

"Maybe she's feeling guilty," Charlotte said darkly, before turning in the opposite direction, leaving Ash even more perplexed than he already was. Andrea just shrugged.

"Don't worry about it, Ash," she said quietly. "She's probably fretting about you." Then she too followed Charlotte, leaving Ash alone.

Well, whatever was wrong with Misty, he resolved to find out and help her cope with it. And tonight he would remind her that they were both still alive, and that was all that mattered for the moment.

* * *

The woman pulled the binoculars away from her eyes as the transmitter began to crackle.

"You're right," she spoke into it. "He's definitely up to something."

The device scintillated into life. _"Very well. Keep your eye on him. He's not very bright, but he makes up for his lack of brains with his skills at battling. Follow him everywhere. I don't want you to lose him."_

She nodded, even though the person on the other end of the contraption could not see her. "Roger. Over and out."

And there she crouched all night, never moving a muscle. Not one of the four in the Pokémon Center realised she was there.

Never moving, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.


	4. Happy Families

**A/N:** I was a little cautious about continuing this story after so long, but I would really like to complete it if only for my sake, so I've decided to continue writing it. I've been having a lot of problems with this chapter, especially with the characterisations of Jessie and James. As a result of this I might have screwed up royally. It would be nice to here some feedback because of this.

* * *

_4. Happy Families_

_Popeny Town, Flaviaosa._

_21st August, 2017._

Sunlight streamed in through the small gap in the curtains, which had been badly drawn the preceding night. The figure in the bed groaned despairingly as it hit her face, rousing her from her dreams. The stirring disturbed the man lying by her side; he stretched out a pale arm to cut short the shrill trilling of the clock which had begun to ring, indicating the time. It was a Sunday, the only day of the week in which the duo could theoretically have a lie-in.

"'S'time?" Jessie said groggily, rolling over to look fully into the face of her partner.

"Half six," James mumbled, snuggling back into the warmth of the duvet. "Meant to change it, but I forgot."

"Trust you," Jessie said, rolling her eyes, lacking the energy to do anything else but struggle onto her side so that she was facing her lover. He shifted slightly so he could press his head into the crook of her shoulder, slipping his arms around her back to entangle his fingers in her knotted magenta hair, which spilled messily over the bed. Jessie closed her eyes contentedly at the feel of his hands moving in such a soothing way. In retaliation, she began to press her lips against his cheek in a way that she knew he couldn't resist, nipping at his ear for good measure. Pressed up against him, she could feel his reactions to her body. She gave a feral grin. Attempting to lull herself back to sleep was the last thing on her mind now.

"Y'know," she whispered seductively, tipping his head back so she could look pointedly into his eyes, "we've still got a couple of hours before Meowth comes in to wake us up. Why don't we…make the most of it?"

Now he was fully awake too, James could hardly ignore the pulsing sensation in his groin. Jessie could be very persuasive when she wanted to be; her hands drifted down his chest, moving in slow, circular motions towards the source of his sudden arousal.

Pausing only for a moment to check that the house was still silent, James grabbed his lover's hands before they could move any lower, lacing their fingers together as he rolled her onto her back. Her sleepy grin widened; it was almost cat-like.

"Now," she purred, "let's see what you're made of…"

* * *

Feeling distinctly hot and sweaty, James collapsed on top of Jessie. Her heartbeat was erratic, her breaths coming out in heavy pants. They were silent for a moment, collecting their senses, which were still scattered wildly above them.

"Well, I think you pass the test," Jessie gasped, running gentle fingers through his soft lavender locks.

"Mmph," he agreed, his face pressed somewhere in the region of her breasts. She shifted her position slightly to get more comfortable, and James surfaced long enough to flop himself down on the pillow next to her. Jessie gave that same wide smile and pressed her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing his hands on her stomach, resting her hands on top of his.

"So, did I pass with flying colours?" James smirked when he had enough breath to do so.

Jessie rolled her eyes at his immaturity. "Well, I'd hardly go that far…"

James looked hurt. "That's unfair! I'd say the way you were moaning clearly means I'm – ow!"

"You can shut up," she growled as he pouted and rubbed his arm where she had pinched him.

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting up!" he grumbled.

"Good," she said triumphantly, and leaned her head back to kiss him, stopping the pout which had reached his mouth. He responded immediately, forgetting that he was supposed to be annoyed with her. The kiss deepened, and Jessie found herself twisting her body, wrapping her arms around his neck and expertly guiding his gentle fingertips to her breasts…

"Dat damned, pat'etic excuse fer a rat!"

The door swung open with a bang to reveal what seemed to be a smoking cat. Meowth stormed into the room, coughing woozily, his fur smouldering lightly. Behind him skipped a Pichu, looking thoroughly pleased with itself. Meowth glared evilly over his shoulder, then turned back to his friends, only now realising that they were frozen in a very compromising position.

"Oh, jeez," he muttered, understanding just what they had been about to do as he had burst in. "Not _again_!"

Quickly, they parted, looking sheepish. The Pichu took it upon itself to wobble unsteadily into the room and let rip a tiny shockwave, frying the cat instantly and, consequently, itself.

"Dat does it!" Meowth screamed, his temper fraying. He unsheathed his claws dangerously, and tensed his muscles, ready to jump onto the irritating rodent.

"Sparks!"

The little voice was strident and panicky; swiftly, Jessie and James yanked the bed covers up as far as they could. There was a flurry of little feet and a petrified child no older than three scuttled into the room, her large sapphire eyes dilated with worry. The Pichu's ears flicked as he recognised the voice, then, emitting his name in a singsong voice, he pranced across the room and leapt into her open arms. Meowth attempted to pounce on him, but the girl stepped neatly out of the way and glowered at the feline in such a good imitation of how her mother did that he backed off almost at once. It was a comical sight, and James could not help but hide a badly disguised snigger.

"Dat's right, Jimmy," Meowth said sourly. "Laugh at me. At least yer not da one dat da rodent has a grudge against."

"Oh come on, Meowth," giggled Jessie. Don't be like that. You know Sparks was only playing with you."

"Playin' is one word fer it," the cat muttered darkly, remembering the burning of his own fur thanks to the little rat.

The Pichu grinned innocently, and wriggled in the girl's arms. She promptly set him on the floor. He bounded out of the room, no doubt to go and cause more havoc elsewhere, Meowth supposed. He resolved to go and make sure he wasn't messing up his quarters, which the rodent had a very infuriating habit of doing.

"Back in a bit," he grumbled, and hurried after Sparks.

Once alone, Jessie turned to her daughter.

"What's the matter, Miya?"

Miya-Rose frowned and clambered, with some difficulty, onto the bed. A stray strand of her purple hair fell into her eyes as she did so, and she brushed it away with a whine. She'd been unfortunate enough to inherit her father's tresses, something which Jessie sometimes despaired over.

"Chickita birfday?"

Jessie and James exchanged amused looks. Ever since Miya had received Sparks as a present, she'd been harbouring after another Pokémon, this time a Chickorita. Even the valid excuse that her parents were reluctant to spend their money on luxuries such as more Pokémon had not deterred her from her quest of gaining what she wanted, a trait James often joked was definitely her mother's.

"Well, honey," Jessie said cautiously as the youngster sat on her knee, "we'll have to see what we can do, okay?"

Miya nodded, seemingly content with the answer, obviously oblivious to the fact that her next birthday was still an entire year away, having celebrated her previous one just a couple of weeks before.

"Good girl," she kissed the two year old's cheek and smiled warmly at James, still secretly in awe that the two of them had managed to create such a perfect child together. Motherhood had definitely mellowed the usually fiery-tempered ex-Rocket, and it was certainly a change for the better.

James felt for her hand under the quilt and winked at Miya, giving her a more concrete answer. "We'll get you a Chickorita if that's what you want, I promise."

Miya grinned brightly. "Kenkoo, Daddy."

"Anything for little Miya," he said, opening his arms and letting her cuddle up against his chest. Parenthood had been good for him too, Jessie thought. He was more assertive than he had been in the past, a trait that Jessie appreciated on him. Although she felt that James shouldn't be getting their daughter's hopes up too much just in case they couldn't deliver (although, she reasoned, Miya had an entire year to forget about this particular conversation), Jessie couldn't stop her heart from swelling; she loved seeing her partner and daughter together. Miya was so much like him; they shared the same hair, the same shaped face and features…but her eyes were definitely Jessie's. A little bit of both of them merged into one beautiful child. Miya smiled once more and clumsily wriggled off of the bed.

"See Sparks," she said seriously. "Uncie bad!"

"Yes, Uncle Meowth is very bad," James laughed. "Go referee the Poké-Battle."

"Now, where were we?" Jessie murmured as Miya left the room. She shifted closer to him, throwing her legs over him so that she was sitting on his lap. The intent in her expression could not have been more obvious. Mornings had always been a very good time for her, and she knew that James secretly enjoyed the fact that she was much more willing to allow him to be on top in the first rays of the sun.

Not this time, though.

James was staring at her wide-eyed, the hands gripping her waist contradicting his next words. "Jessie…we should be getting up…Miya will hear us…"

She cut him off there with a kiss. "Miya will be busy for a while with Meowth and Sparks. She's not going to be coming back here anytime soon. And I'm sure Meowth will keep her away from here if he needs to…"

"You are one persistent woman, Jess," he murmured in her ear as she succeeded in pushing him back into the warmth of the bed. Her response was to nip at his bottom lip mischievously, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"I'm sure Meowth will tell Miya we're a little bit…preoccupied…" she said flirtatiously…

* * *

James emerged from the bedroom a full hour later, a dazed grin still plastered across his face. He'd decked himself out in jeans and a shirt, which he'd only absent-mindedly half-buttoned. His hair was damp from the shower. Jessie herself was still getting ready for the lazy day ahead of them.

Miya was in front of the TV, eyes glued to the Pokémon match which was taking place there. Growly, James' beloved Growlithe, was curled up beside her, his head on her knees, his eyes watching the battle with fascination. At Miya's side was Mime Jr., the baby Pokémon imitating her every move.

"Miya-Rose, what would you like for breakfast?"

She tore her gaze away from the screen for a second. "Toast, Daddy?"

"Of course you can, sweetie," he said, ruffling her hair. "It won't be long."

She nodded, hardly registering what her father had said, and James left, heading for the kitchen.

He found Meowth in there, grimly sorting through a box filled with random objects that he had collected over the years.

"Hey, Meowth," James greeted him good-naturedly. Meowth grunted and continued to hunt through his pile of valuables. Shrugging, James just shook his head and went about preparing breakfast for his family.

He was frying bacon when he felt a pair of slender arms wrap around his waist and a weight descend onto his shoulder. He jumped a little, jerked from his thoughts, and turned his head to find Jessie behind him, a coy smile on her face.

"Jess!" he whined. "You scared me there!"

She grinned. "You should be prepared for trouble. Next time I might…" she bent in to his ear and gave it an affectionate nip, "make it double."

"And what sort of double trouble would that be?" he said, lifting her left hand and kissing her fingertips, a silly grin on his face.

"Well, that would depend entirely on how good you are," she smirked as she laid her head on his shoulder, the fingertips of her right hand snaking their way under his shirt and tracing out the faint scars he had obtained from their years in Team Rocket. James closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, tightening his grip on his partner's soft hand.

There was a strangled cry from the living room, startling the pair of lovers. Jessie pushed away from James and turned towards the door.

"What in the name of Mew was that?" she said.

"I don't know, Jess," James replied, "but it sounded like Meowth."

"What's the furball gone and done now?" she sighed heavily, but before either of them could comment further, the cat, who had left the kitchen only minutes previously, screamed again.

"Bloody hell – Jess, Jim, get yer butts in here now!"

Now pretty mystified, the duo obeyed the cat's command, and together they entered the front room. Miya was still sitting in front of the TV with Mime Jr. and Growly. However, the TV programme was no longer the Poké-Battle one.

It was the PokéWorld TV news station.

"…And now we're crossing over live to Zodorio City's Royal Hospital, where our correspondent, Anna Thompson, currently is. What has been said on the matter, Anna?"

"What's this abo–" Jessie started to say, but Meowth silenced her with a harsh hiss.

"Thank you Zoë," Anna said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "This, indeed, is a tragic story. According to our sources, Mark Anderson, leader of the Elite Four here in Flaviaosa, was rushed into Zodorio City's hospital at approximately ten yesterday morning. It was reported that he had suffered severe injuries to the chest. The staff attempted everything in their power to save him, but Mr. Anderson died at about three yesterday afternoon. Police are treating the case as murder."

"Fuck," breathed Jessie, ignoring the fact that Miya was in the room and glancing over at James, who had sunken in a kind of horrified stupor next to her on the sofa, his emerald eyes fixated on the TV screen. "Isn't he the guy who messed up our plans the day the brat beat the Elite Four?"

"Da very same," Meowth said heavily. "But who da hell moidered him?"

"What details do you have, Anna?" questioned Zoë, tilting her head slightly.

"Well, the police aren't disclosing much at the moment," the woman confessed. "All we really know is that Mr. Anderson was shot in the park yesterday. Two of his Pokémon died at the scene of the crime."

"And there's no sign of the killer?"

"None yet. The police are doing everything in their power to scour the scene of the crime to come up with any evidence that could be vital to this case, but so far there has been nothing. What they are asking for is for everyone to keep their eyes peeled and report anything that might have been seen to them immediately."

"And I'm sure this is the question that is on the minds of many of the citizens of Flaviaosa this morning," continued Zoë. "Just who is succeeding him? The favourite for this has always been Andrea Davies."

Anna shook her head. "Believe it or not, rumour has it that none other than Ash Ketchum, the youngest Elite Four member to date, has been thrown into leadership. Unfortunately," the image switched to one of the young man shoving his way through the crowds of reporters, cap pulled low over his eyes, Pikachu hurrying after him, "Mr. Ketchum refused to comment on the goings on, and this morning did not make a statement. Neither Miss Davies nor Miss Holmes have deigned to speak out either, and at the moment their current location is unknown. We'll keep you updated on this shocking story as it progresses. Back to you in the studio, Zoë."

"Thanks for that, Anna," Zoë concluded. "I suppose all that we can hope for at the moment is that Mr. Ketchum will be able to deal with the pressure of taking over the reigns and leading the whole region. And now, in other news…"

"Dere ya have it, den," Meowth said quietly, switching off the television, much to Miya's indignity. "He's dead."

"Sweet Arceus," James, biting his lower lip anxiously.

"D–Do ya reckon da boss did dis?" Meowth questioned shakily, hopping onto the sofa between his friends. Four years of being free of Team Rocket had not taught the feline that Giovanni was no longer _da boss_, but his human companions had always let it slide.

"Of course that bastard did it," Jessie snapped, running a hand absently through her hair. "Who else would have the brains to pull this off perfectly?"

"I dunno," the cat admitted grudgingly. "Maybe one of da oders? Like Magma? Aqua? Galactic?"

"Magma and Aqua disbanded years ago," James reminded him unhappily. "That goes for Galactic, too. We were the only organisation that really roamed all over and managed to keep going."

"Well, so long as dey don't t'ink dat _we_ did it," Meowth huffed.

James glanced from his partner to his daughter sitting on the floor, who was surveying her parents with large, inquisitive sapphire eyes. "I'm sure that's not the case, Meowth. We gave up that part of our life years ago. Most people don't even know where we are, anyhow–"

Jessie interrupted by sniffing the air with a dubious expression on her face. "Can you smell something?"

Meowth raised his furry face and took a deep drag of air. "Smells like boinin' ta Me-owth."

"Damn," James leapt to his feet. "I forgot the breakfast!"

As he hurried out of the room, dreading the state of the food, Jessie by his side, he distinctly heard Miya say, "Uncie…what does fuck mean?"

Jessie grimaced, obviously hearing it, too. "It's a bad word, Miya-Rose, so don't ever let me hear you saying it again!" she called over her shoulder, denying Meowth the chance to give what might have been a terrible explanation at their expense. James couldn't help smirking.

This was their life now, and not even the death of Mark Anderson was going to spoil their day off together.

Besides, there was always the minute chance that it wasn't connected to their pasts in any way.

* * *

He cursed as he attempted to prise the top off a bottle of water with his one good hand. It was no use. He swore again as he caught his crushed fingers against the trunk of the old oak he was perched beside. He doubted he'd be able to work them well for a few more weeks yet. His leader was ruthless when it came to dealing out punishments.

Where his partner was he did not know; he wished she'd hurry back, though. He could feel his eyelids drooping – having had no sleep since he'd arrived here early yesterday afternoon, he wasn't surprised at this. He just wanted to _sleep_. His targets had shown no sign of doing anything interesting (well, with the exception of the preceding evening which had been sufficient enough to keep him awake), and they would, undoubtedly, be doing nothing for the rest of the day. It was Sunday, after all.

_The day of rest._

Half an hour's worth of sleep wouldn't hurt him, surely? Just half an hour, until his partner returned…

He slumped against the rough bark of the tree, reassuring himself that he'd only shut his eyes for a moment.

He was fast asleep seconds later.

* * *

James leaned down and nuzzled his face affectionately against Jessie's neck as he collected the dirty dishes from the table. That was something else Jessie had noticed over these past few years; her partner was always making a point of letting her know his apparent adoration of her, as though the day that they'd left Team Rocket and almost gone their separate ways still haunted his mind heavily. At one time, this might have annoyed the ex-Rocket, but not anymore. It felt nice to be loved. She watched Miya skip into the living room with her Pichu, leaving her parents alone.

"I'm just going to head out to the village to see if I can pick up a paper," James said, dropping the crockery onto the working space beside the sink. "There might be something else in there about that Elite Four leader that wasn't mentioned on the news." Doubtful, but it never hurt to check.

"That's fine," Jessie said as she stood, making her way over to the sink and stacking the dirty plates more neatly. "I'll get Meowth to help me out here, you get off."

"I'll be back soon," James said, and after giving her a quick kiss on the lips and whistling for Growly, he made his way outside into the sunshine.

Upon hearing the sound of her master's voice, the Chimecho which had been sailing pleasantly in the wind, playing with the rest of the Pokémon, began to float over, singing her name in a melodious fashion.

"Good morning, Chime," he grinned, reaching up to take the Pokémon in his arms when she reached him. Chimecho nuzzled against him affectionately, then wriggled free to wrap herself around her master's head like a strange bandana. Clearly she wanted to come along for the journey.

With a bit of persuasion, James had managed to convince Jessie and Meowth to return to his summer house in Kanto to check on his Chimecho's health. Both Nanny and Pop-Pop had been overjoyed to see their Li'l James safe and well, and had welcomed all three back with open arms. James had explained that their days in Team Rocket were well and truly over, and both had expressed their relief that he had managed to escape more or less intact. He had also shyly told them that he and Jessie had fallen in love with each other.

_At least you've finally come to your senses,_ Pop-Pop had said simply, and Nanny had nodded in agreement before looking Jessie up and down.

_You make him happy,_ she'd stated, and had said no more.

They'd stopped over for a few days, and Chimecho had left with them. Jessie hadn't been exactly thrilled to have the Pokémon tagging along with them again, but she'd persevered when she'd realised how happy James was because of the psychic type's presence.

The slight morning breeze was refreshing after days of the unrelenting heat wave that this part of the region had been suffering from. James hummed cheerfully as he trekked through the field behind his house. They lived a mile or so away from the nearest village, and this isolation suited them perfectly. There was no one around to disturb them. The villagers liked them well enough, but were not interested enough to pry. Growly loped beside him, his tongue lolling out, evidently enjoying the exercise as James climbed over the style and continued on down the road.

_The first year after the two of them had left their life of crime had been difficult to say the least. In the beginning, they had found it hard to get jobs, and the opening few months had found them struggling to earn sufficient wages for them to survive on. The only house they could afford was an inadequate two roomed flat to rent. They practically lived off discounted rice from the local shop, with James bringing bags of cheap food home from the PokéMart for their Pokémon. Even Meowth did his part; begging dejectedly on street corners until some soul took pity on the pathetic creature and dropped a small amount of change in front of him._

_And then, totally out of the blue, the bombshell exploded, leaving the trio with more than the worry of paying the rent._

_It had started out as a typical day in the household. It was late November, the start of the bitter season in Flaviaosa. Both Jessie and James were suffering from colds (one taking it better than the other) and even Meowth, with fur as thick and warm as his was, had a sniffle. Jessie was the worst affected and spent most mornings locked in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach, but not one of the three read anything into it. After all, she spent most of her working time outside in the harsh cold, walking Pokémon for lazy rich folk for a meagre salary._

_However, a week later when Jessie's symptoms showed no indication of easing, a worried James, despite his girlfriend's protests, phoned the local doctor's surgery and arranged an appointment for her, hoping there was something that could be prescribed to her to help her recover._

_The following Tuesday found the two of them sitting in the small waiting room, Jessie's head resting against her lover's shoulder, feeling uncharacteristically tired. It seemed like aeons until the little consultant, Dr. Leaiw, called her forth. James gave her hand a squeeze as she stood shakily and followed Leaiw back to his quiet room. James picked up a magazine and began to leaf through it without taking anything in._

_Twenty minutes later, Leaiw re-entered the waiting area and beckoned James to him. His heart rate picked up as he nervously threw the periodical down and wandered after the specialist. What if Jessie had something incurable? What if it was _cancer_? What if she only had a week left to live? Was there a sign he should've picked up earlier?_

_By the time they reached Leaiw's room, James had worked himself into a tearful state. Positive that his beautiful girlfriend was about to drop dead at any moment, he launched himself at her, almost knocking her off her chair as he sobbed, "it's not fair! I don't want you to die of pneumonia!"_

_Jessie exchanged a dumbfounded glance with Leaiw before she smacked her lover around the head, a thing she had not done in a very long time. He whimpered and shot back, his eyes filled with hurt._

"_I'm not dying, you numbskull!" she growled conceitedly. "I'm much too young and beautiful for that!"_

_James blinked, sniffling, as the news slowly sank in. "Y-You're not dying?"_

"_I just said I wasn't, didn't I?"_

_Dr Leaiw opened his mouth and spoke in his soft Kanto lilt before James could reply. "There is some news, however. Would you prefer to tell him, or shall I?"_

_Mystified rather than scared now, James looked from one to the other, perturbed. What was going on?_

"_Be my guest," Jessie muttered, running her hand consciously over her stomach. Leaiw nodded understandingly and turned to James._

"_Sir," he began soothingly, speaking unhurriedly so he had the lavender haired man's full attention. "I have good news for you. Your girlfriend here is expecting a baby."_

_James' jaw dropped dramatically as he swung around, awaiting confirmation from Jessie. She nodded, an expression of despair fleetingly crossing her face._

"_But…how?" James asked wildly, staring back at Leaiw._

"_I don't think we really need to explain exactly how this baby came about," Jessie snapped, pulling at her hair in agitation. This was all they needed; they could barely afford to feed themselves…_

_James' face flamed. "I just meant that we were always…careful," he muttered._

_Leaiw clucked gravely. "Protection isn't always one hundred per cent reliable, no matter its form. It's very possible to fall pregnant whilst using protection. Now, Miss, there are a few things inside this leaflet which may help abate the morning sickness, and I'll refer you to the hospital for your first scan in a couple of months. Are there any questions you want to ask?"_

_James shook his head mutely, still looking as though the doctor had told him he was due to grow another head, and since Jessie did not seem inclined to speak either, the little expert ushered the pair out of his room._

_Before he closed the door on them, he said, "I know having a child can be a lot of stress for young parents. But believe me…you won't regret ever having it."_

_It was true. Although they barely made enough money for themselves and had never really considered becoming parents even in the future, neither Jessie nor James could bring themselves to consider an abortion – after all, it was not the child's fault, it was their own carelessness. They would keep the baby and find a way to tackle their financial status._

_Meowth took the news that he was to be an uncle very well; nevertheless, he still found himself sporting a black eye for taking a joke about Jessie's inevitable gained weight too far._

_James soon grew to love the small wonder he had helped conceive, and at every opportunity could be found running his hands gently down Jessie's quickly expanding stomach. As a couple they had become much closer, with Jessie being less domineering and James more authoritarian. However, they rarely had time to indulge in any sort of intimacy; James worked every hour he could do at the local PokéMart, dragging himself home late in the evening with no energy to spare except for downing a quick meal and crawling wearily into bed._

_Even this did not solve the ever increasing money problems._

"_Hey, guys," Meowth voiced one morning over the breakfast table halfway through the seventh month of Jessie's pregnancy, "I don't suppose yer've been able to come up wid any solutions to our money concerns, have ya?"_

"_You should know we haven't," James muttered, resting his head against the tiny wooden table in the cramped kitchen as he picked listlessly at his breakfast. He had only just returned home after a gruelling night shift and was in no mood to be reminded of their rather dire situation._

_Jessie shook her head from by the sink. Now that she was as far along as she was, she had been forced to give up her walking job – she could barely make it from the bedroom to their tiny sitting room without feeling out of breath; walking overly energetic Pokémon was asking for far too much in her current state. Although neither human had voiced it, this further dip in the money coming into the household was worrying them beyond anything._

_The cat's eyes twinkled mischievously. "An' dat's where ol' Meowth comes in, see? I've bin t'inkin' 'bout dis a lot recently…"_

"_Oh, joy," Jessie muttered. "Let's hear it, then."_

"_Well, Jimmy comes from da upper class society, right? His family's completely old fashioned. Dey wanted him ta marry some cute redhead ta get his inheritance…but see," he turned to the young man in question, "ya've already got anuder knocked up redhead. Yer parents are gonna be grandparents. Surely if dey have any honour, dey'll do da right t'ing an' let ya break off da engagement ta dat harpy an' allow ya ta marry da goil of yer dreams who so happens ta be carryin' yer baby? An' dey can't allow ya to woik fer a measly six bucks an hour. Dey'll hafta give ya somet'in'. An' a liddle somet'in' ta dem is a whole lot more ta us!"_

_Jessie eyes shone. "When you put it like that…if we do it your way, Meowth, we may never have to work another day!"_

_James frowned slightly as he mulled it over. "I suppose so…" He sounded less than impressed._

"_What's wrong?" Meowth asked. "Don't ya want to give ya kid da best start possible?"_

"_Of course I do," he snapped. "I just don't know if I like the idea of asking my parents for help…you've met them, they're insane! I don't want to end up married to Jessibelle!"_

_Meowth waved a paw casually. "Ah, dat ain't gonna happen. Jessibelle or not, they're gonna have a little grandkid to continue da family line on once dey're gone. Dat's what dey wanted, right? So it's what dey're gettin'!"_

"_Nothing's going to happen to you, James," Jessie added confidently, warming to the idea with the temptation of money. "Meowth and I will be there to make sure of that."_

_The prospect of being defended by a heavily pregnant woman and a cat that couldn't fight to save his own life was not one that James relished, but the sway of their money problems being answered ultimately forced him to nod his head in agreement._

"_Great choice, people!" cheered the feline. "No more livin' off a hundred dollars a week, an' certainly no more beggin' on street corners! Now, when's yer weddin' ceremony gonna be? Just say da word, Jimmy, an' Jess'll be jumpin' inta a white dress straight away. Actually," he hopped strategically out of Jessie's way and headed for the cramped sitting room. "Scratch da white t'ing. She can't wear dat colour no more."_

"_Slow down!" James yelped. "Who says we _want_ to get married yet? I don't want that sort of commitment!"_

_At his words Jessie was confronted with the painful memories of the incident that had occurred at James' summerhouse home some years prior; where James had yelled that he'd rather die than marry her. That had seemed like such a long time ago when they'd first hooked up, and James hadn't even freaked out when he'd found out that he was going to be a dad, yet the mere thought of marrying her had him sprinting for the hills. Just what in hell was wrong with him?_

_Scowling darkly, Jessie left the room. She was in no mood to argue with her partner over the subject, but she resolved to get to the bottom of his rather hurtful aversion of marrying her. And perhaps she'd save a slap for him later._

_Two days later, the three ex-Rocket members found themselves outside the gates of the biggest mansion in the whole of Flaviaosa. James had confided that his family owned summer homes just about everywhere, and this was where they would be staying for the month. So it was with more than a little nervousness that James buzzed through the gate. A heavily accented voice was his reward over the static intercom: "Hello?"_

_Hopkins, that infernal butler._

_James gulped, his voice high and squeaky. His childhood homes had a negative effect on him, bringing back all the cold, distant memories of a bruised past. "Are the owners of the house in the near vicinity?"_

"_The lady of the house is nearby. Is she suitable?"_

"_She's perfect."_

"_One moment, please."_

_The three of them waited in silence as Hopkins retreated._

_The next voice they heard was the unmistakable one of James' mother's heavy southern accent, perfectly cultivated. "Hello?"_

"_Mother? It's me. James."_

_There was an extravagant intake of breath and a moment's pause. "James?"_

_Did she really need to repeat what he'd just told her? "Yes, Mother. Please may I enter?"_

_Jessie raised an eyebrow as she heard the suppressed Southern lilt working its way into his voice, but did not comment as his mother choked, "of course, mah deah. Ah'll send Hopkins down for yuh."_

"_There's no need, Mother," James replied hastily. "We can walk."_

"_Nonsense. A proper gen'leman should wait for the car."_

_There was a satisfactory click as the gate unlocked for their admittance. In single file, they trudged in. Meowth watched the gates seal themselves after them. He just hoped they wouldn't be needing a quick escape. Apparently James was not going to wait for the car, for he had already started making his way up the long driveway, and Jessie hurried (or waddled, since she was already fit to burst with their child) to catch up with her long term partner, slipping her hand into his sweaty one. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly, her smile oozing confidence._

"_Don't worry, James," she said convincingly. "Those snobby gits will have to cough up. They can't let their grandchild grow up in near poverty. And I can't wait to see the look on old Jessibelle's face!"_

_James nodded, less sure, but let himself relax as he felt the tenderness in her touch. Whatever his devious parents tried, he would not allow them to force him to marry Jessibelle. He loved Jessie with all his heart. There was no way he'd let his parents touch either her or their child. Speaking of touching…James blushed as he imagined the disapproval etched onto his parents' faces as he explained the situation to them. Sex before marriage was frowned upon in the upper class society – what the hell would they say when he told them his girlfriend was pregnant? Disappointed would be the understatement of the century. They'd probably berate him for an hour on the improper way of going about life. James could almost hear them now, telling him that while it was acceptable to court a girl, it was not correct to take them to bed before the wedding night. In their books, it was probably only just all right to hold hands with a member of the opposite sex at this stage. With no desire at all to marry the woman chosen for him, they would still expect him to be saving himself._

_They were in for a shock._

_At a bend in the road, a limousine purred around the corner. James stopped short as it came to a rest beside them. The door was flung open and Hopkins the butler flew out. Tears of joy pooled in the corner of his eyes._

"_Master James, you've returned home once again!" he said happily through his megaphone, before his eyes landed on Jessie. At once, his expression morphed into one of pure horror as his gaze slid from Jessie and James' joined hands to Jessie's swollen stomach. It was quite clear that the butler had worked out just what had transpired during the years since he had last seen his young master. He said nothing else as he opened the back of the limo for James, though the glowering look he fixated the pair with was enough to turn the young man crimson with embarrassment._

_Meowth broke the silence as the door was slammed after them._

"_Well," he said, settling himself comfortably in the leather seats and casting a knowing eye on the pair of them, "dis is gonna be interestin'."_

_The drive up to the front of the summerhouse mansion was made in silence. James drummed his fingers nervously against his trousers, staring straight ahead. He was trying to work out the best way of appealing to his parents (the thought terrified him to near paralysis), but each lame attempt was dismissed. Besides, no matter how eloquently he put their delicate situation, the fact remained stark: he and Jessie had been fooling around and now there were consequences._

_Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all._

_Eventually, the car pulled up outside the summerhouse. James gulped as the door was pulled open for the trio to exit. Hopkins' face was stony as his eyes burned into the young couple and their Meowth._

_Standing outside the door, waiting to greet their son, were James' parents. The look of satisfaction on their faces shone brightly as James stood humble, terrified, in front of them, but soon their own expressions morphed into ones of revulsion as Jessie rounded the car. Her delicate state was more than clear to them._

"_James, what is the meaning of this?" spluttered his father, his eyes growing to the size of saucers as he took in the female half of the former Team Rocket. "Why have you brought this girl along with you? Explain yourself!"_

_James could feel his knees banging against each other as he glanced up sheepishly. "She's my partner."_

_His mother's eyes narrowed. "Partner? What do yuh mean by that?"_

_He could feel sweat cumulating at his temple. "Surely you remember her. She is – _was_ – my Team Rocket partner. We did missions together."_

_His parents regarded him through narrowed eyes. Behind him, he could feel Jessie's gaze scorching a hole through his skull. His sweating began anew. It was too difficult, asking him to tell his parents that he was an expectant father._

_Jessie took it upon herself to take over – James was being as hopeless as ever. "Oh, we've been doing more than just missions together."_

_At the sound of her voice, both of her lover's parents rounded on her._

_James' mother wrinkled her nose delicately. "She sounds so common. James, why would yuh associate yuhself with such a person? And what is the meaning of bringing this…harlot heah when she looks ready tuh burst?"_

"_Who are you calling a harlot?" Jessie growled. "I'll have you know that I have more class and style than anyone from this side of town!"_

_Meowth sweatdropped. "Hoo boy, dis is gettin' good."_

"_And for your information," Jessie continued, while James slouched back in abject terror, seemingly tongue-tied, "this," she pointed to her stomach, "is the end result of your son screwing me senseless."_

_For a moment, Meowth thought that the two of them would keel over. James' mother was actually clutching her heart. James himself had gone a puce colour, unable to meet either of his parents' eyes. In contrast, Jessie was standing proudly, arms folded across her chest, determination in her features._

"_Son," James' father said calmly – too calmly. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that this common harlot is lying."_

_James refused to lift his head. Sweat trickled from his temple. His whole body was shaking._

"_Son!" barked his father. "Answer me!"_

"_S–She's telling the truth," he said softly. "Me and Jessie…well, we love each other. The baby is mine as well as hers."_

_His mother gave a horrified wail and promptly collapsed. His father managed to catch hold of her, turning to glare venomously at the trio of ex-Rockets._

"_You, sir," he roared, levelling an accusing finger at James, "are a disgrace to the family name! All your mother and I have ever wanted for you is for you to settle down and marry in order to continue the family line! You would never have needed to worry about the issue of money, and neither would future generations! Yet you insisted on running away and joining that ridiculous team, and now…now you have crossed the line even further! Did it never once dawn upon you that while you were…fornicating with this whore, you have a fiancé here waiting for you to return? How dare you besmirch her honour in such a way?"_

_James hung his head, the words stinging him far greater than he'd ever admit to. All he'd ever wanted was for his parents to accept him for who he was, but it seemed that even the chance of bonding over a grandchild was impossible now. Jessie, on the other hand, was furious._

"_I'm not a whore!" she hissed. "Just because we've had sex doesn't mean that I seduced him into bed! I love him and he loves me and now we're having a baby, whether you like it or not! I would've thought that you'd be pleased that your son has settled down. And what does it matter who he chooses to spend his life with? You're still getting an heir out of it, aren't you?"_

"_I can't understand it!" Mrs. Morgan moaned weakly. "Why would our dahlin' James do somethin' like this? Does he really hate us so much that he'd take up with some lowlife street trash just tuh get back at us?"_

_Jessie's eyes flashed, an all too familiar vein popping out on her forehead. Pregnant or not, Meowth half-thought that she'd spring forward and attack the two pompous idiots for daring to insult her. She didn't, however; instead, she rounded on James and snarled, "some use you are, James! You're supposed to be defending my honour!"_

_James gulped visibly, paling even further, if it was possible. However, he did peek around Jessie's shoulders and mumble tentatively, "she's not street trash, Mother. Jessie's been there for me for a long time now, and it's true that we love each other. We never planned for the…the baby to happen, but it has."_

"_Forget it, anyway," Jessie growled, taking hold of James' arm and turning away. "It's clear that they want nothing to do with us or the baby, and there's no use trying to reason with them." She glanced over her shoulder, casting Meowth an evil look. "This is the last time I ever listen to one of _your_ bright ideas!"_

"_Well at least I come up wid ideas!" Meowth retorted, as Jessie began to walk away, dragging James along with her. "T'anks for da hospitality," the scratch cat said, spinning towards James' angered parents. "We'll probably not be seein' ya around…dough I really t'ink dat it's bad for youse geezers dat yer never gonna meet yer grandchild. Lemme tell ya, dat kid is gonna be beautiful an' if it turns out anyt'in' like dose two nuts, youse will be lucky to have it."_

"_Meowth, let's go!" Jessie called from a distance. "We'll just have to do it our way now!"_

"_Comin'!" Meowth hollered after her. He turned towards James' parents one last time. "We've been scrimpin' an' savin' fer mont's now so dat da kid'll have somet'in' decent to start its life off wid. But Jimmy can only do so much, an' wid Jess bein' unable to woik now, dey're strugglin' more dan ever. Dey didn't want ya to forgive 'em or nutin', dey just wanted a little bit of money to cushion 'em for a few mont's while dey get back on deir feet. I t'ink you owe it to 'em."_

_James' parents could only stare._

"_Meowth!" Jessie sounded as though she would murder him if he didn't heed her._

"_All right, all right!" he shouted back, before turning tail and following his two companions._

_The three of them made their way slowly down the driveway of the huge estate._

"_That was a complete waste of time," Jessie growled, folding her arms across her chest and scowling darkly down at the feline._

"_At least we didn't see Jessibelle," James offered tentatively, shrinking back a little when Jessie turned her glare on him._

"_Well, that would've been the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?" she snarled. "I can only imagine how much worse _that_ would've turned out if that harpy had been around! You couldn't even stick up for me in front of your lousy parents!"_

"_I'm sorry, Jess!" James whined. "It's just that my parents terrify me. Ever since I was a tot they've been determined to change me, and just seeing them makes all the bad memories come back, and I can't stand it!"_

"_You'll be terrified of _me_ in a minute!" she snapped back, punching his arm._

"_All right, quit fightin', youse guys," Meowth sighed, stepping in before a verbal slanging match could ensue. "Yer supposed to be mature adults now dat yer havin' a baby, so quit actin' like kids."_

_Jessie raised her eyebrow disdainfully but said nothing, to the cat's immense relief. The last thing he wanted was for Jessie to start on _him_. The trio finally reached the end of the gate and, feeling more disheartened and worried than ever before, turned in the direction of home._

_It was dark when they finally reached their little three roomed apartment._

"_I'm getting showered, and then I'm getting to bed. I'm exhausted," Jessie told her friends as they stepped over the threshold._

"_Good idea," James agreed, following her into the bedroom._

_Jessie raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, watching as he began to strip himself._

_He frowned. "Getting ready for bed. What does it look like?"_

"_Oh no, you're on the couch tonight, mister," Jessie shot back at him._

"_Wha– why?"_

"_Because you were such a wimp today! We're back to square one now, and we've not got long before the kid arrives!"_

"_It's not my fault!" James whined. "They're not your parents, you don't understand!"_

_Jessie shot him an icy look. "That's right: they're not my parents, because I don't _have_ any!"_

_Awkward silence for a moment. James looked dumbfounded._

"_When I've finished my shower," Jessie said quietly, voice shaking in an effort to keep her temper, "I don't want you in here." She was gone before her lover could answer._

_Meowth had been standing quietly by the door, watching the exchange. At the sight of James' lost expression, the Pokémon sighed and moved in to tug at the lavender haired man's leg. "Come on, Jimmy-boy. I'll make room for you on the couch tonight."_

"_Thanks, I guess," he sighed, allowing the cat to lead him out of the room._

_When Jessie had finished showering, she changed into her nightgown and tossed her clothes onto the wash basket. Before she clambered into bed, however, she popped her head around the door to check on her two boys. The shower had cooled her ire considerably, but she was too proud to retract her word and ask James to share the bed again. In any case, he seemed to be comfortable where he was now, curled up on his side, with Meowth strewn across his legs._

_She withdrew her head and closed the door behind her._

_Later that night, there was a soft knock on the door. Jessie was jerked out of a gentle snooze and heaved herself up groggily, peering owlishly through the darkness._

"_Jess?" Her lover's voice was no more than a whisper. "Are you awake?"_

"_Well, I am now," she called quietly back. "What's wrong?"_

_Slowly, the door creaked open and James entered, careful to make no noise. He padded cautiously over to the double bed and crawled under the covers, snuggling close to her._

"_You're cold," she complained, half-heartedly pushing him away; her body betrayed her as she nestled her swollen being against his. "What are you doing here, anyway? If I recall correctly, I said I wanted to be alone tonight."_

"_I was scared," he whimpered. "The shadows in the living room kept looking like Jessibelle. I can't sleep in there! Besides," he added, "Meowth's not much of a comfort."_

"_Oh, fine," she grumbled, hiding a smile, secretly glad that he had made the first move to return and that they weren't leaving this to stew until the morning. "Just make yourself scarce before Meowth wakes up. I can't have him thinking I'm going soft."_

"_Agreed," he murmured in her ear, already closing his eyes, soothed by her presence. "I love you."_

"_I know."_

"_And you're so beautiful."_

"_You've flattered me quite enough these past few months, James," she groused. "And I'm decidedly not beautiful – not when I weigh about a tonne!"_

"_No one can resist my charms," he mumbled sleepily. "But I still think you're beautiful."_

_Companionable silence for a moment._

"_Jess?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_I'm sorry for not sticking up for you earlier. You know, with my parents." He sighed. "I guess I wasn't really prepared to see them again, and I didn't know what to say."_

"_It's okay, James," Jessie said. She found one of his hands under the duvet and gave it a squeeze to show that she really had forgiven him._

_More silence._

_Then Jessie lifted her head from the pillow to hover it over James'. She stared at him quietly for a moment before prodding him in the side._

"_James?" she whispered. "Can I ask you something?"_

_He cracked open one of his eyes in confusion. "Sure. What's wrong, Jess?"_

_She fiddled with a stray strand of her hair for a moment before turning her attention back to him, clearly nervous about something. This only piqued James' curiosity further._

_Finally, she said, "James, why don't you want to marry me?"_

_The question caught him as unexpectedly as a kick to the stomach, and he shot up with wide eyes, almost smacking his head against hers. "What?"_

_Jessie had turned her gaze to the patterned bed sheets. "You heard me. Every time someone mentions that word you freak out! Is the image of us being married that terrible?"_

"_No, of course not!" her partner yelped at once._

"_You don't need to lie to me," she told him._

_Running a hand through his hair, James shifted tentatively. His hands moved to his pyjama top, unhooking the buttons shakily. Jessie was confused: what did undressing have to do with not wanting to marry her?_

_James discarded his top, then slowly turned around. Jessie was confronted with the white ribbon of scars that snaked their way like a group of Seviper down his back, the ones that he had somehow earned through his time in Team Rocket._

"_James…?" Jessie was uncertain now, reaching out with a finger to trace one of the thin lacerations. He shivered at the hyper-sensitive contact, then glanced over his shoulder at his partner._

"_These scars," he said softly. "I…I lied to you, Jess."_

"_Lied to me? What do you mean?"_

"_I mean that I never got them through Team Rocket. I've had them for much longer than that." He shivered, though the room was far from cold. "Jessibelle…she did this to me. It was part of my training before the…the wedding."_

_Jessie could only stare in horrified wonder as the truth of his words sank in. Cautiously, she reached out her fingers once again, listening to the scars' horror stories as she did so._

"_My God," she breathed._

_Now she was seeing them through brand new eyes, the lacerations seemed a million times worse. How much pain had these caused a young James? An unwanted image of him curled up, sobbing as Jessibelle smashed her whip against his back, cleaving flesh from bone, flashed through her mind, and Jessie pushed it away hurriedly. That was something she did not want to dwell upon._

_Instead, she focused on what these scars meant. "That's why you're afraid. It's not just the thought of marrying me; it's the thought of marriage in general!"_

_He nodded, pulling his shirt back on. "If…if you want to get married, I will," he said softly. "It's just…it panics me, Jess. I try not to let it, but…but whenever I think of it, I'm reminded of these, and why I got them."_

_It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from Jessie's mind at the realisation that she wasn't part of the problem. She snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him back down into the warmth of the bed, pressing her lips against his cheek, relieved beyond anything she'd ever admit to._

"_Marriage isn't that important to me," she said softly. "I'm sure we'll cope without it. It's not like we can afford it, anyway. Staying as partners sound good to you?"_

_James nodded, smiling tentatively. "Sounds great to me, Jess."_

_Silence descended upon them once more, and he found his eyes drooping once again. Jessie smiled and swept his hair out of his face._

_The last thing he heard before he drifted off was, "don't think I won't kick you out if you snore, though!"_

_The next morning, a blank envelope and a Pokéball lay on their doormat. Inside the Pokéball was Growly, which had James welling up. Inside the envelope was a cheque. A cheque with enough money to ensure that they would never have to worry about their finances ever again. Neither Jessie nor James were sure just what had happened to make his parents change their minds about the situation, but they weren't about to complain now that they could finally afford a nice house for themselves. Meowth just smiled knowingly, deciding not to gloat. He knew just what had been the winning factor for the trio: himself._

There had also been a note concerning the issue of Jessibelle. Apparently she had been away, holidaying in the Orange Islands with her family when Jessie, James and Meowth had dropped by those few months before Miya's birth. James' parents had taken it upon themselves (extremely reluctantly, no doubt cursing their good-for-nothing son to high heaven) to break the news to his former fiancé that he would now not be marrying her because he had a duty to another girl and their child. Accordingly, Jessibelle had been both hysterical and distraught, and it had taken her weeks to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't getting her _dahlin' James_ all for herself.

Still, at least that was one task James hadn't had to carry out himself.

James came out of his reverie with a start; Growly was barking joyfully and loping off. He opened the door to the small village shop and entered. The sound of amiable chatter met his ears as he passed through the wide open door to see the smiling faces of the shop owners.

"Morning," James greeted them, choosing one of the papers and bringing it to the front to be paid for.

"Morning," they returned, laughing a little at the comical sight of the young man with the Chimecho wrapped around his head, and the woman bent down to scratch Growly behind his ears. The puppy Pokémon whined happily.

After paying for the paper James turned towards home, unconsciously smiling at the thought of his family waiting for him.

The money that his parents had sent him had allowed them to move from their grotty apartment to the house they owned now, in this quaint little village. However, instead of splashing the money on all manner of extravagances as they might have been prone to do in the past, both Jessie and James had agreed that the best thing to do was to store the money for Miya in the future, whilst keeping enough for themselves to be certain that they would never be in danger of poverty ever again. Besides, James argued, he didn't want to feel as though he owed his parents too much – by retaining their own jobs, Jessie and James were able to carve their own path through life.

Despite his parents sending him the money, James had never actually met them in person since that rather disastrous day before Miya's arrival.

He hummed to himself as he thought back on the morning of Miya's birth. His parents still to this day disapproved of the direction his life had taken, and they had yet to meet their granddaughter face-to-face, but they had been intrigued by her, there was no denying that.

"_I think you may just have broken my fingers," James only half-joked as he finally managed to prise them from Jessie's death grip. He flexed them slightly, as though to test them._

"_I can't believe you screamed louder than me," Jessie muttered tiredly, unable to tear her eyes away from the baby girl latched onto her breast. After nine agonising hours of labour, the magenta-haired ex-Rocket had given birth to this beautiful child. The nurses had promptly whisked her away to clean her up, and had handed her back over to her emotionally-wrought mother just minutes ago. Now the baby was enjoying her first ever feed._

_James felt an unimaginable level of love for both Jessie and their daughter as he gazed upon the two of them. He reached out with a shaking hand to tentatively caress the baby's cheek._

"_I can't believe it," he said in awe. "Look at what we've created, Jess!"_

"_Perfection," Jessie replied softly, finally turning to look up at her partner._

_His heart swelled even further from the look in her eyes. Sweat had matted wisps of her hair to her temples, the rest of it cascading untidily down her back. She was not wearing any makeup because the arrival of the baby had caught her unaware. Dark shadows circled her eyes. And he had never seen her looking more beautiful. "I love you, Jessica."_

"_I love you too," she echoed, something she rarely did, and James slid his hand to cup her jawline, kissing her so softly that she almost melted beneath him._

"_Hey, is it safe ta come out yet?"_

_The two of them parted to find Meowth peering out from beneath the bed where he had hidden during the delivery. Pokémon were not allowed in this part of the hospital, but Meowth had been adamant about being there, so James had snuck him in under his shirt and shoved him under the bed at the first opportunity._

"_Yeah, they've gone now," James said as Jessie returned her attention to their baby._

_Meowth hopped onto James' lap to get a better view of the girl. "She's cute," he commented. "Ya musta done somet'in' right, Jimmy!"_

"_Oh, shut up," he grumbled as the cat jumped onto Jessie's knees. The baby was staring straight up at her mother unblinkingly with huge, mesmerising blue eyes. She had finished feeding and was lying there quietly._

_Jessie turned her head slightly, noticing the longing look on her partner's face. Though she was loathe to part from her girl, Jessie knew that James had as much right to hold her as she did. And besides, she was secretly looking forward to seeing the two of them together._

"_Would you like to hold her?" she asked softly._

_James hesitated. He would love to hold her more than anything else, but he was afraid, too. He had no experience dealing with children, let alone _babies_, and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to hold her without dropping her. The last thing he wanted to do was end up hurting her._

_Obviously sensing the problem, Jessie said, "you'll be fine. Look, just hold your arms like I am now and it'll come naturally."_

_Nervously, he did as instructed, making his arms into a cradle, and she nestled the baby into them, making sure that he was supporting her head carefully. Whilst the exchange was happening, the baby made no sound, content with being passed from mother to father._

"_Looks like she's as docile as James is," Meowth noted with a grin. "Phew, dat's good news. At least we won't have a miniature Jessie ta deal wid!"_

"_Watch your mouth," Jessie snapped at him, and Meowth poked his tongue out at her. James ignored the exchange however, completely consumed by the tiny bundle in his arms. Lavender fuzz lightly covered the top of her head. Her eyes were half-closed now; she was clearly about to fall asleep at any moment. She was so tiny and fragile and beautiful. James had already lost his heart to her._

"_What do you think we should call her?" Jessie said softly into his ear, and he started. She was leaning her chin on his shoulder, gazing down at the precious bundle in his arms with bright-eyed wonder._

"_I t'ink ya should call her Meowthirina in honour of me," the cat piped up. "I'm da top cat, after all!"_

"_We're _not_ giving our daughter such a stupid name," Jessie retorted._

"_Although I was thinking of calling her something in honour of someone," James said tentatively, flushing when he felt Jessie's questioning gaze on him._

"_Oh?" she said. "Who's that, then?"_

_His blush intensified. "I was thinking it might be a nice gesture to call her Miyamoto, in honour of your momma," he mumbled._

"_Miyamoto…" she echoed, looking down at the baby. Then she looked up at her partner with a quiet resolve. "But I want this kid to be able to grow up without thinking that she has to live up to her grandmother's memory. I want her to be her own person."_

"_So…not Miyamoto?"_

"_Maybe just Miya," she said softly. Then she gave a little grin. "Miya-Rose."_

"_Miya-Rose?"_

"_Well," she grinned slyly, "I know how much you love that flower, and…" she lowered her voice, as though the baby would understand her, "she _was_ conceived that night we did it on that bed of rose petals."_

"_Oh, brudda," Meowth smacked a paw against his face as James flushed scarlet. _That_ was an image the feline certainly didn't want. To break the rather suggestive tone that the conversation had taken, Meowth voiced a thought that immediately cooled the duo's amorous recollections of that fateful night. "Hey, Jimmy, shouldn't ya ring yer parents an' let 'em know dat yer've had a goil?"_

_James' eyes widened, clearly panicked. Obviously his parents hadn't even crossed his mind. But, of course, they had a right to know about this – Miya-Rose was, after all, their granddaughter, and they had sent the trio a cheque for enough money to set them up for life, even if it had been with great reluctance._

"_I suppose I ought to," he sighed, glancing at the video phone which stood in the corner of the room. Meowth nodded and hopped over to the screen while James handed Miya-Rose back to Jessie. The lavender haired man then joined his feline companion, his shaky fingers punching in his parents' number quickly._

_There was static on the screen as they waited for the call to be processed. James glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, biting his lip. It was half-past six in the morning. It was doubtful that anyone but the servants would be up yet._

_Finally, the screen cleared, and Hopkins' face came into focus at the other end. His rather sleepy expression sharpened at once when he realised that his young master was on the other side of the connection._

"_Master James! What is the meaning of this?"_

"_Hello, Hopkins," James replied tiredly, feeling a little more comfortable knowing that a screen was separating him from his childhood home. "Would it be possible to speak with Mother and Father?"_

"_Master James, it is far too early to be disturbing your parents! I must insist that you call back at a more respectable time –"_

_James stepped aside, allowing the butler to see Jessie sitting up in the bed, cradling Miya-Rose tenderly in her arms. At once his eyes widened as he realised the implications of this call._

"_I shall put you through to your parents at once," he said, and the screen went fuzzy for a second time._

_It was several minutes before the screen cleared again to reveal James' mother and father dressed impeccably in their extravagant clothes._

"_What is the meaning of calling at a time like this, son?" James' father demanded, clearly irritated._

"_I'm sorry, Father, but it couldn't really wait."_

"_Well?" prompted his mother, "what is it, James?"_

"_Jessie's had the baby. You've got a granddaughter."_

_Both of them seemed to be stunned into silence as they stared at their son._

"_A granddaughter?" James' mother finally managed to whisper. She looked as though she was about to faint. "Is she there with yuh?"_

_James nodded, and stepped aside so that the two could see the same sight that Hopkins had seen just moments before._

_Jessie felt uncharacteristically self-conscious as James' parents scrutinised both her and their granddaughter. She wished she looked more presentable – if she had, at least they wouldn't have been able to sneer at the way she looked. However, much to her surprise, they did not seem inclined to comment on her – they were too fixated on the child in her arms._

"_Well," James' mother breathed finally, "she looks just like you did, James deah. Bring her over heah so we can have a better look."_

_James nodded, then cautiously took his daughter back from Jessie. She gave him a reassuring smirk, watching as her lavender haired partner tentatively presented his daughter to his parents. They nodded in approval as they soaked her up._

"_She looks even more like you than I originally thought," his mother commented. "I hope she doesn't have your hair, though," she added, casting a critical eye over James' mussed tresses. He went to swipe the stray strand of hair from his face at once, only for it to fall stubbornly back into place._

"_I assume you weren't present for the birth?" James' father said suddenly, as though the thought had just occurred to him._

_James felt the sweat collecting at his temple. Of course he'd been present for the birth – he hadn't wanted to miss it for the world, and the way Jessie had been crushing his hand (and snapping that she was going to kill him for getting her into this predicament in the first place) had ensured that he hadn't been able to escape. Nevertheless, he knew that his own father and every other man from the other side of the social class had sat patiently outside the delivery room, waiting for a sign to crack open the cigars wrapped in either blue or pink paper in celebration._

"_Nope, I waited outside," he said brightly, hoping that they didn't detect the slight quiver in his voice – a characteristic of when he was lying to them._

_They seemed more preoccupied with the way he spoke. "James, deah, don't say 'nope'. It's not very proper."_

"_Sorry, Mother."_

"_And," her eyes widened as though she'd only just noticed, "where is your weddin' ring?"_

"_Wedding ring…?" James looked confused._

"_You _did_ do the right thing and marry the girl before the child was born out of wedlock, didn't you?" James' father pressed, frowning in a disapproving manner._

I should've thought of that,_ James thought, but tried to smile confidently. "Of course we're married. It's just that we didn't expect her to arrive tonight and didn't have time to put them on again before coming here." Well, that sounded lame._

_Miraculously, however, this seemed to pacify them._

"_What did you decide to call her, anyway?"_

_He glanced back at Jessie to see her trademark smirk. Whether it was because of his lie or the story behind their child's name, he couldn't tell. "Miya-Rose."_

"_Miya-Rose?" There seemed to be a hint of distaste in his father's voice._

"_Yes," James said defensively, knowing that Jessie was feeling the same way he was. "After Jessie's mother and the time she was –"_

"_The time she was what?" his mother narrowed her eyes._

_James blushed. "Never mind. Anyway, I think we should be going now; I think Miya-Rose wants Jessie." It was true: the baby was screwing up her face as though she was going to begin wailing._

"_Then we'll let you go," his father answered._

"_I hope you raise her properly," added his mother._

"_You can visit her sometime," James offered tentatively._

_Both parents wrinkled their noses in a refined manner, making it quite plain that they would not be visiting their granddaughter in her home for as long as she lived. "Perhaps."_

_And with that, they signed off._

"_Well," Meowth said, curling up into a ball as James handed Miya back to Jessie, "dat was a cosy reunion."_

Now, two years on, Miya-Rose had still not met her grandparents in the flesh. She had spoken to them on birthdays and Christmas, but that was the extent of her contact with them. Nevertheless, it did not seem to bother her too much and James wasn't really going to complain about not having to see them, either. After all, they still had huge differences which divided them.

And he didn't need them. Not really. In the beginning, and even sometimes when he'd been a member of Team Rocket, he'd wondered why his parents hated him so much that they point-blank refused to even attempt to heal the rift between them. It had hurt him more than he'd ever dare to admit that they hadn't loved him enough to accept him for who he was. Deep down, he'd never be able to forgive them for that. He still loved them – they were his parents, and nothing was ever going to change that – but he had his own family now, and Jessie, Meowth, and Miya made him happier than anyone else in the world.

He was lucky to have such a wonderful family.

* * *

He was smacked upside the head to bring him back to the world of the living. With a weary groan, he opened his dark eyes to find his partner glaring at him.

"Wha–?" he started blearily.

"You're a shit observer," she growled. "You were meant to be keeping an eye out while I was away!"

"You can't expect me to keep awake all night while you go sleeping around, and then stay awake all day," he snapped back. "It's not fair."

"I'll have you know that my _sleeping around_ has won us vital information from the town's mayor," she said. "I now know that she," she spat the word distastefully, "works for the local Pokémon day care, she's been with that dope for at least as long as she's lived here, and their brat is three."

"And of course the only way to pay for this information was to act like a whore," he sneered.

He received another slap for his troubles.

"Shut the fuck up," she growled, her broken fingers aching painfully. "I'm _not_ a whore!"

"Whatever," he said indifferently.

The woman straightened to her full height and glowered down at him, making him draw back just slightly. She was formidable when she was angry.

"I used to like you," she said coldly. "Before these past few years, before you started to be a real bastard. Why have you changed?"

"I'm not the one who's changed!" he yelled after her as she stalked off. "It's you!"

No answer.

"I used to like you, too," he muttered darkly, under his breath. "Now I can't even bear to look at you!"

* * *

"I'm back!" James sang as he opened the back door. Growly raced into the room, barking madly, and James heard the surprised exclaim from his partner as the puppy leapt onto the sofa beside her. He followed, leaning against the door frame, smiling softly as he watched her petting the puppy behind his ears. Chimecho unfurled herself from James' head and, after nuzzling against him for a moment, floated off to find the rest of the duo's Pokémon.

"Have you looked in there yet?" Jessie asked, gesturing at the paper in his hands and receiving a cold nose to the side of her face when she ceased stroking Growly.

James flopped down in the armchair beside her, looking a bit uneasy. "I have, yeah. Nothing new in there, though."

"Hmm." Jessie began to frown in a pensive manner.

"Where's Miya-Rose, anyway?" Her lover quickly changed the subject, not wishing to dwell on the murder at this very moment.

"She's scolding Meowth somewhere," Jessie grinned. "Apparently he's been terrorising Sparks again – also known as trying to take back something the Pichu stole."

"I'm sure he's overjoyed." James teased. "It's bad enough when he gets what for from you!"

"Watch your mouth," she growled in reply.

"All right, all right," he smiled.

Jessie decided to let it slide, hiding a smirk of her own. "Now, what are we going to do today? I don't feel like lying around here, tempting as it is."

"I thought you'd say that," James sighed regretfully. "Although lying around can be very pleasurable –"

"James!" Jessie was not moved by his attempt at suaveness.

"Fine, fine. How about we go to the park? Miya would enjoy it, and it gives Meowth a chance to escape her wrath."

"Sounds good to me." She heaved herself from her seat. "Give me a moment to sort myself out."

He grinned cheekily at her again. "That's it then. It'll be past Miya's bedtime before we even make it out of the door!"

This time, she tugged sharply on the piece of hair that always fell into his eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to mind his bantering.

After all, they wouldn't be the same without it.

* * *

She took a shaky drag on her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly. The nicotine steadied her nerves, but she hated being so reliant on it.

Like she was on him.

Their new relationship was almost unbearable, tormented by bitter arguments and harsh behaviour. Still, she usually ended up in his arms, their blood mingling, their hearts beating in a united march of hatred.

There was only a fine line between love and hate, and she had already experienced it, had been torn apart by it.

She stopped walking. Threw her cigarette end on the ground. Made her way up the neat path to Mr Jonathan Taylor's front door. He'd breathlessly told her to call on him if she was staying in the area. She did not like him, with his sweaty body and nervous ways, but she needed release.

She needed to forget, live in another moment, if only for a while.

* * *

Jessie watched her daughter chase delightedly after her pet, giggling. James smiled beside her, his hand finding hers. Meowth was sitting on his lap, one paw resting against his furry chin.

"Mommy, ice-cweam?" Miya sang as she skipped up, her face flushed. Sparks leapt up onto the bench too, squeaking winningly at Meowth. He did his best to ignore him, but it was proving difficult; the rodent was pawing at his face in a most annoying manner.

"Of course you can, honey," Jessie smiled, patting her purple curls affectionately. "Tell Daddy which sort you want."

"How come I have to go?" whined James, but quickly stood when he noticed his lover's raised eyebrow and the silent warning it carried with it. "C'mon then, Miya-Rose. Want one, Jess? Meowth?"

"I'll have a double chocolate cone," Meowth piped up at once, greedily licking his lips at the prospect.

Jessie sighed dramatically. "I have a funny craving for doughnuts. Bring those."

He nodded. "Right you are."

"Daddy!" Miya said impatiently. Sparks leapt onto her shoulder and regarded him with innocent eyes.

"I'm coming, hon," he said endearingly, and with a last wink at Jessie and Meowth, he took his daughter's small hand within his own.

Meowth grinned. "Who's bettin' dose doughnuts never make deir way back over here?"

* * *

He leaned against the wall. Closed his eyes. Breathed evenly. In, out, in, out. This mission was driving in some hard-hitting home truths. He was twenty-eight, didn't have a girlfriend, didn't have a family, and was most likely to never have either. In truth, he was jealous of what Jessie and James shared. How had it been that they had managed to settle their differences and get it together? They'd had a knack for arguing fiercely with each other, but they had also had a chemistry in their working relationship that ran deeper than just the platonic kind; he had noticed that over the several times he'd encountered them during their Team Rocket days.

Yes, he was still jealous. Plain and simple. That bumbling duo had everything he craved for: love, acceptance, and a family to call their own.

He lit a cigarette and breathed in the smoky fumes, grateful for the distraction. He did not want to dwell on what he was missing out on. It hurt too much. His parents had always had such high hopes for him. What would they think of him now? He glanced, out of habit, up at the sky. They'd be disappointed. No parent ever wanted to see their child fall off the straight road into a life of crime, drugs and sex. Each of the three categories had become an irreplaceable part of his life. It was who he was now.

It was who he would always be.

"Do you want vanilla or strawberry, sweetheart?"

With a jolt of horror, he realised his quarry, the one he was meant to be watching, was barely fifty metres away, purchasing ice-cream from the little van. He gave a sharp intake of breath and ducked around the corner, just as James glanced up, staring in astonishment.

For a moment, he was certain he had been seen.

Then James squeezed the little girl's hand and walked towards the shop he was lurking beside. He shrank back into the shadows, clamped his eyes shut. If he was caught now, he was as good as dead.

James continued past, explaining something to his daughter. She was listening raptly, craning her neck so she could see her father's face, a look of utmost adoration upon her own features. She was the spitting image of him.

_Would my kids have looked like me?_

Once he had passed the alley, James cast a glance back. Nothing. No one. He shook his head. Surely his imagination had been deceiving him. He couldn't have seen…not here, surely? It was just his imagination…

…Right?

* * *

"When will I see you again?"

She hated men like that; the desperate sort who longed to possess a woman. Casual men were a lot harder to come across nowadays. And she knew Taylor was married; had seen the conspicuously hidden photos of faded holidays and weakening memories.

"Soon," she promised hollowly and, pulling her dress down as far as it would go, she pushed open the garden gate and stepped out onto the empty street.

She wouldn't see him again. He had served his purpose.

Unknowingly, unwittingly, he had triggered off the events of a murder.

* * *

"Here you go, Jess." James handed her the half-empty tub of doughnuts distractedly and released Miya's hand. She scampered off to play with her ball nearby, Sparks at her heels.

"Whatsa matter, Jimmy?" Meowth asked, licking his chocolate ice-cream. "Youse look like yer've seen a ghost!"

"Hmm?" James said vaguely.

"You've got this really weird look on your face," said Jessie.

Meowth snickered. "He always looks like dat."

"Thanks," James said sarcastically, attempting to relax his face muscles_. I was imagining it…I had to have been…_

"James?" Jessie raised a slender eyebrow. "Are you okay? Do you feel well?"

"I'm fine, Jess. Honest." Once more he looked in the direction of the alley he could see in the distance.

Nothing.

* * *

He sprinted as fast as he could back towards the residence that he was supposed to be monitoring, ignoring the strange and disapproving looks he was receiving from the villagers as he passed through. Luckily, their house stood alone. There would be little chance of being recognised if he kept away from the general activity of the village, though the disguises he and his partner were donning would also reduce the odds of this happening.

He slowed his pace once he'd reached the fields, forced himself to breathe rationally. There was no way for James to prove what he might have seen – he was apt at hiding away and pretending he didn't exist. He had spent most of his life doing that.

His partner was already back in position, unmoving, watching the house even though no one was in it.

He said, "do you think we should scout around the outside of here while no one's in?" No apologies. That was how their relationship was now.

She shrugged. "Do whatever the hell you like. I'll stay here if you wanna go check it out."

And that was it. End of conversation.

He dithered for a moment, racked his brain for something to say. But what _could_ he say? There was nothing he hadn't tried already. Why should he bother anymore? She had never made the effort to reach out to him. Why should _he_ be the only one struggling towards the fading beacon that represented the remnants of their relationship?

With one last glance, he turned and left.

* * *

It was dark when Jessie and her family returned to their home. She had one of her hand slipped into James'. His other arm was occupied by their daughter. Meowth rode on his shoulder.

"Fun day, Daddy," Miya said happily, clinging onto her Pichu.

James smiled. "That's great, honey."

He had decided not to worry – just yet, anyway – about the incident outside the alley. He had told himself that there was no way that they could be out here. Not after all this time.

"Pichaa!" exclaimed the little rodent, and hopped to the ground, his ears flicking. He stopped short, body tense, eyes darting.

Meowth gave him a sceptical look. "Nice try, fuzzface. Youse can't scare me dis easy."

"Why do you think he's trying to scare you?" questioned Jessie.

"I t'ought you was s'posed to woik wid Pokémon?" snorted Meowth. "Sparky-boy is tensin' his muscles, right? Dat generally means a Pokémon is scared. But dere's nut'in' ta be scared of 'round here – no trouble can reach us dis far out. Prolly heard a Ratatta or somet'in'."

Jessie frowned. "I dunno, Meowth. I guess you're right."

"Ya guess? Of course I'm right; I'm still da Top Cat!"

Jessie laughed good-naturedly, but James said nothing.

_Sparky-boy is tensin' his muscles, right? Dat generally means a Pokémon is scared. But dere's nut'in' ta be scared of 'round here – no trouble can reach us dis far out._

Was Meowth one hundred per cent correct with that statement?

Jessie and Meowth had once said, trouble could be kept out of Team Rocket, but Team Rocket couldn't be kept out of trouble. And, strictly speaking, a part of their Team Rocket past had never truly died…

_You can't keep Team Rocket out of trouble._

And if that was so, James reflected nervously, then trouble was not so very far behind.

* * *

She sat as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe, certain that the Pichu could see right through the bush – to her. She had only shifted her position slightly; she'd forgotten that the electric rat species had super-sensitive hearing. She heard the distinctive sound of the cat's voice, and then the humorous giggles of the bitch.

She begrudged their happiness. They did not deserve it. What had they ever done to earn it? They had never completed extravagant and dangerous missions, had never risked their lives for the greater good, had never contributed to the growing success their company was achieving.

If anyone deserved that happiness, she did.

She had the scars of missions that had almost destroyed her, she had brought countless Pokémon into the organisation so it could bloom, she had endured more than her fair share of famine and intense training for the New Dawn.

She had obliterated the love for her partner in order for her career to flourish. Though, she snorted, some career it had turned out to be.

If she could destroy the love of her nemesis, then maybe that would be revenge enough. For now, she had to wait.

* * *

James lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling. His mind was all over the place. Had he really seen who he thought he had? If so, what did they want with him and his family? They had been true to their word, hadn't they? So why would they be here? There was no reason. No reason at all.

At that moment, his partner slipped into the room, cutting short any deep, meaningful thoughts that he might have had. She crawled onto the bed beside him, snuggling up to his shoulder.

"Should I be worried?" she said playfully, trailing her fingers lazily up his stomach.

The touch was very distracting. "Hmm? Why?"

She shrugged. "You're thinking about something. Usually it leads to disaster."

"Thanks, Jess. That does wonders for my confidence."

"You're very welcome. So, what were you thinking about?"

"Y'know, just stuff. Miya-Rose, us."

"And that's why you're looking so serious?" she grinned. "Had I better get ready for a whirlwind split? C'mon, be honest with me here. We swore never to keep secrets from each other. Anything you have to deal with, I have to deal with. It's always been our way, even back in Team Rocket."

It was rare for either of them to bring up their past anymore, although it had happened far too many times today. Something about the way she said it made James want to tell her everything. He was scared, he was worried. He needed to unburden himself to her, like he'd done when they were just partners in crime.

But he couldn't.

"Really, it's nothing," he said, turning onto his side and pushing Jessie's hand away. "I don't want to talk about it. Don't worry yourself."

"Fine," Jessie said heatedly, sitting up, evidently not liking being given the brush off. "Don't talk to me about it, see if I care. But don't expect me to listen when you _do_ want to talk!"

And with that, she waltzed angrily out of the room, leaving James alone and confused.

* * *

Her companion returned at long last. He glanced at her once, before moving quietly to the back of the house so that he could see the kitchen. She followed reluctantly and crouched in the shrubbery, at least a metre away from him. She didn't want to be with him any longer than she needed to anymore, but this was their mission. They were in it together, whether they liked it or not.

The lights were on. The little family was seated at the table. Jessie and James sat at opposite ends, neither speaking nor looking at each other. Jessie was stony faced, her partner sad and worried. The little scratch cat looked uncomfortable, downing his food as fast as he could, as though it was the last meal he'd ever eat. Only the child remained oblivious to the tension; she chatted away animatedly about one thing or another, her parents gracing her with short, strained answers.

Her partner gave a snort of contempt, and looked at her once before standing.

"You stay and watch here," he said shortly. "I'll watch the front."

She was about to answer back, but he was gone, melting into the night like a curse. With a few well-chosen words, she sat down in the bushes and waited.

He reclined against a tree, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He hated her. _Hated_ her. Yet he hated cutting her off, estranging himself from her, too. At one point, there had been an unspoken understanding of their feelings for each other, but that had changed the very day that they had been promoted. He wasn't sure if it was entirely her fault, but it felt good to blame her. Still, a small part of him often wondered what it would've been like had they just continued on as they were, and he sometimes, when alone at night, yearned for the old days.

They had been far better than the new ones.

Nothing could be salvaged from their broken relationship now, he acknowledged sadly. All they could do now was hope that the New Dawn wouldn't darken and swallow them up in its unforgiving hold.

* * *

"Meowth?"

The feline looked up from his place in front of the TV, where he was curled up waiting to see if there were any developments in the case of the Elite Four leader. Apparently, there weren't any at this stage. Jessie was standing in the doorway, frowning a little.

"What's da matter, Jess?" Meowth asked, sitting up and muting the sound so he could turn an inquisitive stare on his friend.

She sighed and made her way into the room, flopping down onto the sofa. "It's James."

Meowth had figured as much from the way that the duo had not spoken to each other during dinner. "Jimmy? Why, what's he done?"

She cast a glance towards the door to ensure that her partner was still busy tucking Miya into bed. "There's something on his mind, and he won't tell me what it is."

Meowth smirked. "Well, James always has da same t'ings on his mind…and dat's food, Miya an' sex wid youse. If ya can't woik out which one it is, I feel pretty sorry for ya."

Jessie rolled her eyes, huffing with irritation. "It's not like that, furball. This time it's…it's something different. Something a lot worse. I don't like it when he blocks me out, and I don't like it when he lies to me, either. There's something bothering him, and he won't tell me what it is."

Meowth stretched out languorously. "Ah, I wouldn't worry about it, Jess. Ya know what James is like. He likes ta t'ink of himself as all tough an' stuff, but he's a big softie at heart. He'll crumble an' tell ya all soon enough. Just be patient wid him."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right. I guess I was a bit harsh with him earlier."

Meowth unmuted the television, winking at her as he did so. "Den what are ya waitin' for? Go tell him ya feel bad an' den da make-up sex can begin!"

"_Meowth!" _Jessie yelled, tossing a cushion at him, but she couldn't help blushing a little.

Because Meowth had just voiced her thoughts.

* * *

She was waiting outside Miya's room when James emerged. Waiting until he'd closed the door behind him quietly, she asked, "did she go down okay?"

Noticing that her tone of voice was no longer one of ire, James breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Yeah, she was out like a light. Today must've really tired her out."

Jessie nodded, then turned and made her way down the corridor to their own room. James followed. Once inside, Jessie began to pull her shirt over her head, throwing it haphazardly into one of the corners. She then began to slide her skirt slowly down her body, raising an eyebrow as her partner followed her every move. When she'd accomplished that too, she sat herself down on their bed, leaning back on her hands.

"Jessie…" James swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "What are you doing…?"

Tendrils of hair fell into her face in a becoming fashion, and she brushed them out of the way. "We had a fight earlier, right?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it much of a fight –"

"And what always happens after a fight?"

The way she was running a hand provocatively down her side made it difficult for James to think. "Um…I dunno…"

Jessie smirked widened, and she reclined suggestively against the pillows. "We make up."

Comprehension finally dawned on him. "Oh, right!"

"So, let's start making up."

It was surprising how fast James could move sometimes. Within seconds, he'd crossed the room and had trapped Jessie's body underneath his own. She sat up on her elbows as his hands slid around to unhook her bra, catching the warm flesh underneath and sending enticing shivers up her spine. He grappled for only a second with her knickers, and she settled back down, sighing gently. Slowly, James began to leave a trail of kisses on her neck. Jessie gave an encouraging moan as his mouth travelled lower, towards her chest. He toyed with each of her breasts, massaging one with his fingers as his hot mouth covered the second, his tongue over her nipple, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. Every nerve of Jessie's body was on fire. She needed him.

Quickly, she pushed herself up, dislodging James as she did so. He gave a whimper of protest, which she silenced with a kiss of her own, sliding her hands under his shirt, feeling the smooth delicacy of his stomach with her fingers. She straddled his hips with her legs without breaking contact with his mouth. James whimpered again in the back of his throat, his hands sliding over her naked back. They broke off the kiss. James fumbled with the buttons on his shirt while Jessie hungrily pulled off his belt, and…

…And, at that point, the woman tore her gaze away from the window with a sound of disgust, while her partner continued to watch the couple as they began to make love, a perverted interest adorning his features.

* * *

Meowth padded outside, dragging a bag of garbage behind him, which he dumped in the trash can. He twitched his ears and gazed out in the direction of the fields. He could see the grass blowing gently in the breeze. Inside the house, the rest of his Pokémon friends – Seviper, Wobbuffet, Chimecho, Mime Jr., and Yanmega – were sound asleep.

Suddenly, he heard something.

It was almost inaudible in the air, a sigh on the wind, a whisper in a different tongue. Curiosity piqued, Meowth followed the sound around to the back of the house where the foliage was much denser. The noise could no longer be heard, but Meowth had an inkling that whatever had caused it was still in the vicinity. His night vision did little to help him penetrate the thick undergrowth, and the feline paused, dithering. What if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him? It had happened enough in the past.

Yet, this time, Meowth was not so certain.

Something, somewhere, was definitely not right.

He swished his tail, his brow furrowed as he tried to make his mind up. Should he go back inside and pretend that nothing had happened, or should he investigate just to make sure?

On any other night, he would have chosen the first option, but something, tonight, was stopping him. Pokémon instinct or something else, Meowth was not certain, but some unknown force carried his paws forward as he began to search the immediate area, his heart reluctantly speeding up as he became aware of something monitoring his every move. Where was it? The normal type whipped around and plunged blindly into the bush on his left, his eyes shut tightly. There was a cry of pain as his claws came into contact with something soft and fragile. He opened his eyes, shocked, to find himself staring at some sort of bloody face. With a howl of terror the scratch cat leapt backwards, almost falling over himself in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between the creature and himself. He had been expecting many things, but definitely not a human.

A human, watching the house.

Watching their every move.

* * *

The digital clock's face flickered, the numbers changing to signal the new time: twenty past ten. The gentle sound of even breathing told Jessie that her lover had succeeded in drifting off to sleep, one of his hands resting on her bare hip, the other lost in her sea of magenta hair. He looked so at peace with the world. She let out a barely perceptible sigh of contentment. For all of the uncertainty currently hanging above their heads like a lethal sword, for all of James' sudden secrecy, she was happier than she ever had been in her life. It was far too sappy for her to admit out loud, but during the quiet reflection period in the wake of their lovemaking, the thought was something which made her smile. It was with that thought that she closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep.

Seconds later, the terrified yowl pierced the air. Jessie shot up, instantly vigilant, but James slumbered on, oblivious to the night-time mystery. There was the slamming of a door somewhere downstairs, the frantic jingling of the keys, the flurry of padded feet…

Silence.

For a moment, Jessie sat quite still, her ears straining to hear other tell-tale signs of some sort of ambush. Nothing. She was unwilling to move for fear of finding something unwelcome; nevertheless, careful not to disturb the sleeping male beside her, she swung her feet over the side of the bed and threw a thin robe over her naked body as she did so. Her footsteps were muffled on the soft carpeted floor, and she quietly opened her bedroom door, poking her head out and staring hard. Nothing out of the ordinary. Growly slept stretched out beside her daughter's room, his head resting lightly on his front paws. Surely if something was terribly wrong, the loyal puppy would've alerted them by now?

Miya's door was ajar.

Silently, Jessie made her way across the landing and peered into her child's room. The young girl's eyes were closed, her delicate lashes brushing against her silky skin. Her breathing was quiet and even and so blissfully alive. Sparks was curled up by her head, his furry paw resting atop her tiny hand – her Pokémon, her protector. Jessie's heart swelled with even more love as she bent in and placed a tender kiss upon her forehead.

The night she had found out that she was pregnant with Miya, she had lain in bed beside James, both angry and envious that he seemed to be able to sleep while she could not, her heart pounding sickeningly fast, her eyes wide as she'd stared into the darkness. She and James had been making love for almost a year, ever since a rainy night a few days after they'd initially hooked up, when they'd been cold and miserable and hungry from their attempt to reach the nearest town on no income. The ground had been saturated with water and the sky had been rumbling ominously overhead, but there had been something electric about the atmosphere that had not been coming from the lightning: in the way that he'd kissed her breathless, in the way that his body had pressed against hers, in the way that his hands had felt like flames against her soaking skin. So the two of them had given themselves over without abandon in the mud and the grime, moving clumsily together in their first experience of this new phenomenon, with Meowth lying obliviously nearby. They had been as careful as they could in the times after that, with both Jessie and James taking measures to ensure that any unforeseen circumstances did not arise.

They still had, anyway.

That night, when she'd discovered that she was pregnant, Jessie had cried herself to sleep self-pityingly, her lover's hands resting against her flat stomach. She had had no idea how the two of them would cope. James had had no experience with kids, and could not ask his parents for advice because they did not care about him. Jessie herself had had no role model in her life. Ever since her momma had died, she'd had no true mother figure in her life.

How was she supposed to express love for a child when she didn't even know how it felt to be loved like a daughter? How could James be expected to express love for a child when he didn't know how it felt to be loved as a son?

She had grown to like the thought of being a mother eventually, and James had helped her a lot with that. Seeing how excited he was about their imminent arrival had affected her too, and she had found herself to be just as eager. Their child had only made her love James more.

Of course, Miya-Rose had also brought her problems – after the initial exaltation of finally holding her for the first time had worn off, Jessie had been struck by how little she knew about babies and how to care for them. More times than she cared to admit, she had wept in self-loathing at her daughter's crib, terrified of raising her wrong, unsure of how to get her to stop crying. James had been a huge help then, too; more often than not, he had calmed Jessie herself before sweeping Miya into his arms and taking her away until she was feeling better prepared to cope. It was times like those that had made Jessie wonder half-admiringly, half-horrified, how Miyamoto had coped with raising her alone.

Now, Jessie felt silly for ever doubting her ability to love her daughter – or James', for that matter. Miya was such a sweet bundle of fun that it was impossible not to adore her. James certainly worshipped the ground upon which she trod.

There was a whimper.

Slowly, Jessie stepped back. She'd recognise that sound anywhere.

"Meowth?" she said softly, squatting beside the bed. She lifted the sheet that hung down, hiding the underneath of it from view. Crouched there, eyes dilated with an animal-like fright, was the cat. His fur stood on end, his whole body shivering.

Jessie frowned, her heartbeat unwillingly speeding up as she gently pulled the shaking creature out into her warm arms. "What were you doing under there?"

It seemed he was unable to speak.

"Well? What brought out the scaredy cat in you?" Jessie's half-jibe did nothing to provoke an answer from the feline. He merely lifted his head and clambered more securely onto her knees. He could tell her his discovery, but what good would that do? It would cause her to panic, and she'd get stressed like she was usually susceptible to doing. He wondered if James knew something about this too. He would speak with the lavender haired man tomorrow about his fears, and see if James confirmed them. He must have had a good reason not to tell Jessie, and therefore Meowth would keep quiet as well. It wouldn't do any of them any good if they all spent their time worrying. No, the best thing to do would be to keep Jessie blissfully in the dark. Besides, Miya was bound to notice if both of her parents were scared and confused. She was a clever kid.

Bearing this in mind, the scratch cat said, "honestly, it was nut'in', Jess. I was takin' da trash out when dis real big Snubbull jumped me. Ya know what dey're like. I've had enough bad experiences wid 'em in da past."

Jessie did not fully believe her long-time comrade – no Snubbull could've had that effect on the poor scratch cat, no matter its size – but she decided not to voice her suspicions.

"Oh, right." she whispered.

"So get back ta yer lover boy. No doubt he's wonderin' where da hell ya are." Meowth gave a wicked grin, winking, a shadow of his old, assured self showing through.

Jessie smirked in return. "For your information, James is asleep. Now, c'mon. I can't leave you here."

Meowth nodded, and followed her out of Miya's room. Jessie closed the door quietly behind her, then tiptoed back to her own chamber. The cat leapt onto the bed and curled up into a tight ball, yawning in satisfaction. He was still nervous, but his two friends had a becalming effect on him.

Jessie slipped the gown off of her body and padded, naked, over to the window, straining her eyes as she stared into the dense foliage. Meowth had told her he had been taking the trash out when the incident had happened. She could just see the bin from her window; she narrowed her eyes and scrutinised the ground as best she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something moving. She pressed her nose against the glass, but it was gone in a flash, hiding amongst the bushes where she could not see. She could not penetrate the night; she needed a Persian's vision for that…

A foreign sound distracted her from her mission. A sound she had not heard in a long time, and a sound the normal type Pokémon coiled up in her room would deny in the morning.

Meowth was purring.

With one last futile glance out of the window, Jessie turned away and slid back into the warmth of the duvet. Her heart was hammering loudly in her head. She was so sure that there was something out there, so sure it was human…

"Whatsamatter?" James slurred sleepily as she placed her slim arms around him, rousing him from his dreams. She placed a whisper of a kiss on his mouth, hugging him close to her. She could not shake off those unsettling images of the creeping figure…

"Your heart's going a mile a minute," he mumbled drowsily, his hot breath tickling her ear. "What's wrong?"

Despite her unnerving suspicions, Jessie decided not to relate her thoughts to him – at least not then. A reluctant part of her was still feeling sour at him for keeping something from her, but the greater half of her knew that James would panic if she told him what she might have seen. Jessie wanted to find out why the hell someone was out there before they did anything stupid. Maybe the person needed help. Still…why did that give them the right to sneak about their property at half past ten at night?

"I was just thinking about you." She tried the seductive tactic instead. "You were rather spectacular tonight."

James snuggled close to her, wrapping his own arms around her petite waist. "Just tonight? You seem to think I'm rather spectacular every time."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, James."

"Night, Jess," he yawned, burying his head in her skin, not even registering the cat on the end of the bed. Jessie nestled herself against her lover's chest and closed her eyes, but her frantic mind could not rest, replaying the moment she had seen the stature. Had it been tall? Short? Male, female?

It looked as though she'd be in for a sleepless night.

* * *

He stayed quite still, breath bated as the young mother peered out of the window, sure that she had seen him. His partner crouched beside him, growling under her breath, agitated and fearful. If their target chose to pursue her suspicions, and she found them…well, their lives would not be worth living. They would lose more than the feeling in one hand if they did not pull off this mission successfully.

A few moments later, she disappeared from view, and the duo in the bushes waited motionlessly, wishing, praying to remain undiscovered…

No one came.

The night breeze ruffled their hair as they relaxed their bodies, breathing easier, daring to move their limbs once again.

"I'm sure she saw you," the female hissed, turning her head so she could glare severely at her colleague.

"And how is that my fault?" he growled in return, glowering angrily. "You were the one who bloody well made me go out there to check if the cat had gone!"

The weak blow caused him to wince as her fingertips came into contact with the deep gashes from the feline which decorated his pale cheeks. The woman spat some well-chosen words through gritted teeth as her fingers shot with a white hot pain, courtesy of her ruthless leader.

"Don't let it happen again," she snarled quietly, her gaze flickering back to the dark house. "Do you want him to break our other hands?"

"Of course not," he snapped. "But I can't help it if the stupid cat went and told her, can I? We'll just have to complete the mission earlier than we planned to if he has."

This new assignment had destroyed what little remained of their relationship, but what could they do to stop it? They had accepted their new status those four years prior; there was no way they could get out now, no matter their feelings.

They were in too deep, drowning in their lies and in their deceit. Every time one of them clawed weakly for the bleak sunshine, something would pull them back, whether it was a new project or their co-workers themselves. Then they'd find themselves back where they'd started: the bottom of the ocean, with no breath left to stake another fight for freedom and survival.

And there they'd struggle, until Death took pity on them and claimed them as His own.


End file.
